


Harry Potter and the Girl in Red

by Id (idX)



Series: Girl in Red [1]
Category: Dungeons and Dragons - Fandom, Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Major Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-06-08 02:42:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 131,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6835726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idX/pseuds/Id
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thrust into a world that makes no sense, Rose must earn the trust of the professors, keep her friends out of danger, and have fun doing it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Where Am I?

Professor Albus Dumbledore had seen many strange things in his time. He was considered one of the most powerful wizards of all time, and he could cast spells of which most people would never dream. He had fought dark wizards and monsters and could perform just about any feat, with the glaring exception of bringing people back from the dead. So, while the little girl dressed as Little Red Riding Hood wandering the halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry surprised him, he didn’t categorize the event as “strange”; although, the fact that she appeared to be talking to the _walls_ was a little unsettling. Not the talking portraits on the walls, those she was ignoring, but the actual walls themselves. 

“Hello?” 

The girl whirled around, her red cloak fanning out around her. She had her hood pulled up over her head, but Albus could see traces of crimson hair peeking out from around it. 

“Salutations!” the girl exclaimed. 

“My dear, it’s a little early for Hallowe’en.” 

“What’s a ‘Hallowe’en’?” she asked, cocking her head. 

_Strange_ , Albus thought. _Even Muggles celebrate Hallowe’en._

The girl lowered her hood. Her hair was definitely crimson, not just the normal orange of a red-head. It looked thoroughly done, which most likely meant that it was her natural hair color, or she was a Metamorphmagus. 

“It’s… Are you lost, little girl?” 

“Yup!” she replied, still cheerful. “I stumbled upon this place on accident. Is this _your_ castle?” 

“It is,” Albus replied. “I think you had better come with me, Ms…” 

“Peta-Lorrum!” she replied, jumping a little as she answered him. “Rose Peta-Lorrum, Sir!” 

The girl curtsied politely. Whoever she was, she made a good first impression. 

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum, my name is Professor Dumbledore,” Albus said. “Would you please follow me?” 

“Certainly!” 

Albus led the way to the Hospital Wing, as the girl skipped alongside him. He could’ve brought the girl anywhere, but he wanted to make sure she was tended to before she was interrogated by any other members of the staff. Also, the Hospital Wing was the only place in the castle with beds, apart from the flats of the professors and the common rooms, all of which were out of bounds at the time. The Hospital Wing also had a direct line to the kitchen, and as it was late afternoon, she would probably be getting hungry soon. 

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum, that accent sounds Scottish,” Albus said. “Are you from around here?” 

Rose hesitated, then replied “Yes!” 

“How did you find your way here?” 

“I don’t know. I just sort of wandered in. I was _plane shifting_ and wound up outside on accident.” 

_Well, she couldn’t have found Hogwarts if she weren’t magical_ , Albus reasoned. _Perhaps a Muggle-born? What’s plane shifting?_

“Do your parents know where you are?” 

Rose shook her head. “No. They died when I was nine.” 

“I’m very sorry to hear that,” Albus replied kindly. 

The girl’s grin disappeared, and she stopped skipping and started walking normally. 

“How old are you now?” Albus asked, hoping to take the girl’s mind off of what must’ve been a recent tragedy. 

She paused for a moment, then began to count on her fingers. 

“Ten!” she exclaimed, her cheerful demeanor returning. “Wait, maybe eleven. Or maybe 3,007. I don’t remember anymore.” 

“Are you Muggle-born?” 

“What’s a Muggle?” she asked, tilting her head. The girl had resumed skipping alongside the Headmaster. She was awfully cheerful for a girl who apparently had nothing but the clothing on her back. “Also, where am I?” 

“You are in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,” Albus replied. 

“Oh,” she replied. “So you’re a teacher here?” 

“I am the Headmaster, although I do occasionally hold seminars on alchemy.” 

The girl’s eyes grew wide, and she stared at him in awe. He wasn’t sure if that was from him being headmaster, or the mention of alchemy. Either way, he was certain that the look she was giving him was one of respect. 

They arrived in a large room lined with beds on the wall to their left. The room was well lit thanks to the large windows above the beds, and on the wall to their right were a few beds, then a door to the office of the Mediwitch Poppy Pomfrey. Said mediwitch was walking around the room, keeping it neat and tidy, making sure it was prepared for the students that arrived in a few days. 

Poppy looked up as they entered, smiling when she saw Albus. Her smile was quickly replaced with a look of confusion when she saw Rose. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Albus noticed that Rose pulled the goggles resting on her eyes off for just a moment. 

“Poppy, this is Rose Peta-Lorrum,” Albus informed her. “A Muggle-born orphan who has wandered in here by accident. Rose, this is Madame Pomfrey, Matron of Hogwarts.” 

Rose curtsied as she was introduced. 

Poppy immediately took note of several details about the girl, but the one on which she focused was how thin the girl was. She couldn’t have been more than four and a half feet tall, and probably didn’t weigh 60 pounds soaking wet. If Poppy remembered her weight and height charts correctly (she did), the girl was underweight for her height, and was approaching the point at which it became unhealthy. 

“Are you alright, dear?” asked Poppy, hurrying over to them. “When was the last time you ate? Are you hungry?” 

“I’m okay, Ma’am!” exclaimed Rose. “I don’t eat much! I’ve got a _ring of greater sustenance_!” 

“Well, you just lie down and get some rest,” Pomfrey said, moving Rose towards one of the beds. Albus noticed that Rose almost jumped when Poppy touched her. “You must be exhausted, traveling around all by yourself.” 

“Really, Ma’am, I’m fine!” Rose protested as she was placed on one of the beds. 

The crimson-haired girl bounced a little in the bed as she sat down, and immediately looked down at the bed. She looked from side to side as she pushed herself up an inch and fell back down, bouncing again. She began to repeat this, a broad grin forming on her face. The young girl became completely distracted by how bouncy the bed was. 

“Rose, are you enrolled in school at the moment?” Albus asked. 

“Nope!” Rose replied, still bouncing up and down a little in the bed. “I used to go to a school called Arcrel.” 

“What’s Arcrel?” Poppy asked. She turned to Albus. “Have you heard of that?” 

“I’m afraid not,” Albus replied. “Rose, where is that?” 

“Near Kor’el.” 

“And where is _that_?” 

“Continent of Faera.” 

“I see,” Albus said. “Well, you are about the age to be enrolled in school, and we should have the room here.” 

Albus wasn’t sure about taking in a stray, although he didn’t like the idea of sending an orphan out on the streets, so to speak, nor the idea of someone potentially misusing their magic, accidental or otherwise. 

“I’ll of course have to discuss this with the other professors.” 

Rose’s face lit up, and she began to bounce even more on the bed. 

“Will you be alright here in the mean time?” 

Rose silently nodded, her bobbed hair flying everywhere. 

* * *

“She seems troubled,” Albus explained to his house heads. He had gathered the four of them in his office to discuss the matter of the little orphan girl that had literally turned up on their doorstep. “She claims her name is ‘Rose Peta-Lorrum’, which sounds remarkably close to ‘rose petal’, and she has already referenced places I’m quite certain don’t exist. I suspect that she has created an imaginary world for herself to make up for her parents’ absence.” 

“Could she be dangerous?” Severus Snape, Head of Slytherin House, asked. 

While he wasn’t the best teacher, he _was_ the best potions master Albus could convince to be a teacher, and he always maintained a good amount of scepticism towards every situation. 

“It sounds like the girl simply requires the presence of a parental figure,” Pomona Sprout, Head of Hufflepuff House, suggested. 

Albus could always count on Pomona to argue for the underdog, or in this case, the orphan girl. 

“She was talking to the _walls_ ,” Filius Flitwick, Head of Ravenclaw House, countered. As always, he was pointing out the hard evidence, rather than rely on paranoia like Severus. 

“So she’s a little disturbed,” Pomona argued. “She lost her parents. At that age, it can have a devastating effect on anyone.” 

“And she certainly wouldn’t be the first damaged orphan to attend Hogwarts,” Minerva McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor House, added. 

Minerva was the one that kept Hogwarts running. Albus held the title of “Headmaster”, but Minerva was the one that managed the paperwork, spoke with prospective students and their families, and made sure the students didn’t burn down the castle. 

“She could be lying,” Severus reasoned in his typical, monotone voice. 

“So could any student!” Pomona shot back. 

“Every year we risk letting in a student who would try to do the others harm,” Minerva said. “We’ve got Lucius’s son, another Weasley, and Harry Potter all starting this year. And those are just the ones we _know_ are going to cause trouble.” 

“What if she’s after the Package?” Severus asked. 

“Then why didn’t she go after it already?” Albus asked. “She’s had plenty of opportunities. I found her on the ground floor, and she was stopping to talk to the castle.” 

“Which probably means she wasn’t in a hurry,” Filius said. 

“Are we allowed to use veritaserum on students yet?” Severus asked. 

“It’s just as illegal as it was the last time you asked,” Minerva said. “Are we supposed to use it on every student that displays problems, or just every _student_?” 

“If there’s anyone to be watched, it’s Quirrell,” Filius said. “Everyone knows our turnover rate for Defence Against the Dark Arts professors has been high. It would be easier to move about the castle than as a professor than as a student.” 

“It seems it’s three against one in favor of the girl attending,” Albus said. “We’ve got one opening left, and I don’t see it likely that it will be filled before term starts in a few days. Does anyone else see any other reason why this girl should not attend Hogwarts?” 

Albus looked at his house heads. 

Severus and Minerva had their reservations about taking in a stray, but neither able to devise a valid reason not to allow her to stay. 

Pomona wanted to ensure that all children were well cared for, and Filius wanted to ensure that they were well educated. 

“I believe that settles it then,” Albus concluded. “Minerva, as Deputy Headmistress, you will escort the girl to Diagon Alley in the morning to pick up supplies. I suspect that Ms. Peta-Lorrum has no money to her name, so we will have to dip into our orphan funds. Luckily, we don’t need it as much this year as other years, so we should be able to get her most of her supplies.” 

“Unless you have any reservations, Albus,” Minvera said. “I’d like to meet this girl before we go any further.” 

“That sounds reasonable,” Albus said, nodding. “I suppose this meeting is adjourned, then.” 

Delighted with the turnout, Albus popped a celebratory lemon drop in his mouth. 

* * *

Rose glanced around the room. No one was tripping her _greater blindsight_ , and she couldn’t see anyone else in the room. Grinning, she pulled off her boots and began to jump on the bed. 

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum!” 

“Wasn’t me!” she exclaimed, landing on the bed. She slipped her boots back on her feet, and turned to see Madame Pomfrey running back into the room. How did she do that? Did she have a spell to notify her when people jumped on the beds? 

“Do _not_ jump on those beds!” the matron scolded her, as the older woman approached Rose’s bed. 

“That wasn’t me,” Rose replied simply. “That was my evil twin.” She leaned in closer to Madame Pomfrey, and whispered, “She’s _crazy_.” 

“Then tell your evil twin that I don’t want to see _either of you_ jumping on those beds again,” Madame Pomfrey replied sternly. 

“I’ll let her know!” exclaimed Rose, grinning. Madame Pomfrey eyed the girl suspiciously, then eased up a little. The poor girl must be traumatized from the loss of her parents, seeking any comfort she could find. 

Rose made a note that the “evil twin” excuse didn’t work as well in practice as in theory. 

Madame Pomfrey returned to her duties as another woman entered the Hospital Wing. This woman wore robes of green, and had a stern expression on her face that betrayed no emotion. Rose figured this woman had to have _glibness_ on her to be able to bluff _that_ well. 

“Salutations!” Rose greeted the woman as she strode in. 

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum, I presume?” the woman asked. 

“Yup!” Rose replied, then gasped. “You talk like a Dwarf!” 

“I… What?” the woman asked. 

“Did you grow up on Rontus too?” 

The woman paused for a moment, eyeing Rose. 

“No,” the woman replied flatly. “I am Professor McGonagall, Professor of Transfiguration, and Deputy Headmistress.” 

“Nice to meet you!” Rose said, jumping up out of the bed. She curtsied, as her parents had taught her to always do when meeting new people. Also, her sister said that it was good to give people the best possible impression. That way they’d never suspect that she was up to something. 

“Likewise, I’m sure,” Professor McGonagall replied. “Tomorrow, I will accompany you to collect school supplies for you.” 

“So I get to go to school here?” 

“For the time being.” 

The girl grinned, apparently pleased with this decision. 

“What sort of supplies?” the girl asked. 

“We’ll need to get you some robes, although they may not fit well,” Minerva told her as the girl raised her hand. 

“Yes?” Minerva asked, a little confused as to why the girl was raising her hand. 

“Can I make them?” 

“I admit no student has ever asked me that before,” Minerva replied. She still kept her face carefully neutral. “So long as you follow the same pattern as everyone else, I don’t see that it should be a problem. Aren’t you concerned about how long it will take?” 

“Not really,” Rose replied. “Using standard crafting rules, it should only take me a few hours, depending on the price. A few seconds, if I use _fabricate_.” 

“I see,” Minerva said. “As long as you can complete it in time.” 

_Albus was right about her being delusional_ , Minerva thought. 

“Thank you!” Rose replied, beaming. 

“You will also need potions supplies–” 

“Got ’em.” 

“–Textbooks–” 

“Oooh! I love books!” 

“–and a wand.” 

“Got a bunch of those.” 

Minerva narrowed her eyes. 

“What do you mean by ‘a bunch of those’?” Minerva asked. 

“Like _Serendipity_?” Peta-Lorrum asked, flicking her left hand. A finely made, dark red wand appeared in her hand. 

“Yes,” Minerva said slowly. 

How did this girl have a wand already? For that matter, how did she get it to appear in her hand like that? 

“Well, then, I guess we just need some text books for you. Also, a pet is allowed.” 

“No, thank you,” replied Rose, still beaming, as her wand vanished just as quickly as it appeared. “I’ve already got Ref!” 

“Ref?” asked Minerva, fearing she would regret asking. 

“Reflectesalon!” the young girl exclaimed. “He’s my imaginary friend!” 

“I see,” Minerva replied. 

_At least she admits_ something _is imaginary._

“Well, in that case, tomorrow we should only need to acquire textbooks for you.” 

Rose’s hand went in the air again. 

“Yes?” 

“Have you got a library here?” 

“Yes, we have,” Minerva replied, thankful for a _normal_ question from the girl. “If you’d like, I could escort you there.” 

“Yes, please!” Rose asked. 

Rose followed Professor McGonagall to the library. She skipped alongside the older woman, looking all around her at all the sights the castle had. She was particularly interested in the moving staircases, and found herself wondering if they always ended up somewhere safe, or just randomly moved from place to place. What if they stopped midway? Rose had other means of travel than just walking, so it didn’t matter much to _her_ , but it might be useful to know. 

They arrived at the library after a few minutes, where Professor McGonagall told Rose not to make too much noise, and not to go in something called the “Restricted Section”. Naturally, Rose made a mental note to visit it as soon as possible. How else would she find out why it was restricted? 

After she finished explaining the rules to the new girl, Minerva took a seat at a nearby table. 

This didn’t surprise Rose, as she had been expecting that they wouldn’t leave her unattended. She looked at the massive library in front of her, and sighed. This was going to take a while. She wandered along one of the aisles, looking at the books. 

She pulled off the quiver charm from her bracelet, which expanded into her _efficient quiver_. She pulled out her _Staff of Grand Divination_ , which she had crafted due to the lack of _discern location_ in the standard _staff of divination_. Grinning, she whispered, “Who said _prying eyes_ was a bad idea for the _Staff of Grand Divination_?” 

She twirled the staff, careful to avoid hitting the surrounding books. 

“ _Prying Eyes._ ” 

As she whispered the spell, 19 magical orbs appeared around her. Each one was dark orange, with a single black dot on one end. 

“Spread out, scan the shelves, and report back when finished,” she ordered the eyes, which spiraled out and began to follow her orders. 

Luckily, the Defiant Misinterpreter was kind enough to allow the orbs to check _different_ sections of the library, rather than all of them looking in the same section. Rose grinned as she watched the orbs fly to the rest of the library, then deposited the staff back in her quiver, replaced the quiver on her bracelet, and began to check her own section of the library. 

* * *

Irma Pince was enjoying the peace and quiet. The calm before the storm, so to speak, as the new term started in just a few days. That meant that in a few days, there would be hundreds of students flooding the castle, which meant a lot of noise. She had charms on the library that kept all the books in their proper place, so she never had to worry about students rearranging them without her knowing, but she still hated the thought of hundreds of dirty students getting fingerprints all over her precious books. 

As she was surveying her dominion, a small orange orb flew past her. She blinked a few times, and rubbed her eyes. Had she just imagined that? No, another one flew past her, dashing any hopes she had of it just being a trick of the light. She thought she had heard someone enter the library, but wasn’t sure who would bother. The professors occasionally dropped by to look up something, but not often, and certainly not when they were all preparing for students to arrive. 

Grumbling to herself, she decided to postpone concerning herself with it until she saw another one. 

About twenty minutes later, the two orange orbs flew past her again in the opposite direction. Irma got up and began to follow them. They led her straight back to a young girl dressed in a lot of red and black, sitting cross-legged on the floor. Orbiting the girl were more than a dozen of the orange orbs, and next to her was a notebook, on which she had scribbled several numbers. 

After a moment, Irma realized that they were calling codes for several of the books. It looked like the girl was interested in history, both of Hogwarts and the Wizarding World. She had also written down some codes for reference books on magic and the Great Wizarding War. 

Spotting Minerva, Irma walked briskly over to the Transfiguration Professor. 

“Minerva, what’s going on?” she hissed, trying hard to control her voice and temper. 

“I’m just as confused as you are, Irma,” Minerva replied. 

“I _highly_ doubt that!” 

“We found an orphan girl wandering the grounds.” 

“What are those?” 

“ _Prying eyes_.” 

Both women turned towards the young girl, who was holding one of the orbs in her hand. 

“I don’t like searching for books by hand,” the girl continued, “so I sent them out to do it for me!” 

The orb in her hand vanished, and another one floated over to take its place. 

“Is that a spell?” asked Minerva, curious about the orbs. 

“Yup!” squeaked the little girl. 

“Where did you learn it?” 

“I don’t remember. It’s in my _Staff of Grand Divination_!” 

The new orb vanished, and another took its place. The girl scribbled down another number in her notebook. 

“I don’t care _how_ she’s doing it!” hissed Irma through gritted teeth. “She needs to stop!” 

“Why?” the girl asked. “They’re not hurting any of the books.” She scribbled down another few numbers and moved onto the next orb. “They’re just helping me find books I should read first!” 

“Minerva, why is this girl even in the castle?!” Irma asked, raising her voice. 

“Irma, this is Rose Peta-Lorrum,” Minerva explained calmly. Upon being introduced, Rose stood up, curtsied, and sat back down. “She will be attending Hogwarts starting this year, however she had nowhere to go in the mean time.” 

“So you let her come in and disrupt _my_ library?!” 

“As far as I can tell,” Minerva replied. “Ms. Peta-Lorrum hasn’t so much as laid a finger on the books.” 

The girl beamed as the last orb vanished from her hand. She picked up her notebook and stood up. 

“May I please stay here for just a few more minutes?” she asked. 

Rose looked from the Librarian to Professor McGonagall. 

“Five minutes,” hissed the Librarian. 

“Thank you!” squeaked Rose, trying hard to keep her voice down. She looked at the first of the numbers in her notebook, then vanished in a burst of rose petals. 

The two women stared at the space where the little girl had once been. A few rose petals floated down to the ground, vanishing when they hit the stone floor. 

“What… What was that?” Irma asked. 

“I honestly don’t know,” Minerva replied. 

She heard the skipping of large boots on hard stone not too far from them, so she knew that the girl hadn’t gone far. The part that troubled her was the fact that the girl _apparated_ inside Hogwarts, a feat that _should_ be impossible. 

True to her word, in almost _exactly_ five minutes, the girl came skipping over to the two women. 

“All done,” she whispered. “Nice meeting you, Madame Pince.” 

She curtsied again, and she and Professor McGonagall began the return trip to the Hospital Wing. 

It wasn’t until a few minutes later that Irma realized that she had never given the girl her name. 

_Minerva must’ve told her_ , she thought dismissively, eager to return to the peace and quiet of her library. 

* * *

“Please do not wander off at night,” Professor McGonagall told Rose as they reached the Hospital Wing. “The castle is vast, and I’m sure you wouldn’t want to get lost.” 

“Of course not,” Rose replied. “Getting lost isn’t usually fun at all!” She tilted her head. “Except when it is.” 

Minerva blinked. 

_I’m done with this_ , she thought. 

“Good night, Ms. Peta-Lorrum.” 

“Good night, Professor!” 

Rose watched Professor McGonagall leave, then returned to her bed. She kicked off her boots and flopped down on the bed. Staring at the ceiling gave her an excuse to talk to her item familiar, Reflectesalon, with whom she communicated telepathically. 

<Well?> Rose asked Reflectesalon. <Get anything from _her_? >

<Everything,> Reflectesalon replied. <Curiously, _her_ mind was not as well defended as Professor Dumbledore’s was. >

As an item familiar, Reflectesalon received several special abilities. One ability that Rose has chosen for him was _detect thoughts_ , which allowed Reflectesalon to read the minds of anyone within 60 feet of him, so long as Rose faced the person in question. Considering Reflectesalon was comparatively weak, the ability was usually only useful on lower level adventurers. Rose hadn’t chosen it to be useful on stronger enemies, but instead on weaker adventurers who were in need of equipment to buy. 

<Interesting,> Rose replied. <You’d think as a primary caster she’d be able to ward off a simple _detect thoughts_ spell. No offense. >

<None taken. Professor McGonagall is concerned about your presence here. Specifically, she is confused as to how you have a wand, and how you managed to apparate within the castle grounds.>

<Right, apparition,> Rose pathed. <That’s what they call teleportation here.>

One of the many spells that Rose kept persisted on herself was _scholar’s touch_ , which allowed the caster to touch a book and read it instantly. Rose had used this to read through several books in the library, including _Hogwarts: A History_ , which seemed to be the definitive book about the castle. She had found a history book for this plane, learning where she was and about the people of this plane. 

<She also thinks that you are, and I quote, ‘mad’.>

“Woo!” Rose shouted. “Victory!” 

Of course, this earned her a concerned look from Madame Pomfrey. 

“Is everything alright, Dear?” Pomfrey asked. 

“Professor McGonagall thinks I’m crazy!” Rose exclaimed, beaming. 

Madame Pomfrey opened her mouth, but slowly closed it when she couldn’t think of anything to say to that. She opened her mouth again, and found the words she needed. 

“That’s nice, Dear,” she said, hesitantly smiling. “Good night.” 

“Good night, Madame Pomfrey!” 

The torches that illuminated the room all went out, leaving Rose in darkness. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the D&D fans in my audience: I use a blend of Pathfinder and 3.5, which ends up with Pathfinder skills (because those make more sense), and mostly Pathfinder classes. Everything else is 3.5.
> 
> Also, the _ring of greater sustenance_ is a custom item (I go overboard with those), similar to a standard _ring of sustenance_ , but cuts prep time in half.
> 
> Finally, the disclaimer is based on the disclaimers used by Team Four Star.


	2. Houses, Hats, and Alleys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Minerva continues to regret her decision to allow Rose to attend Hogwarts, and Hermione meets a very odd girl.

Professor McGonagall walked into the Hospital Wing the next morning to find Rose wide awake and wearing a black robe with a Hogwarts crest stitched to it. The young girl was examining it with a look of disgust on her face. 

“Do I _really_ have to wear this?” the crimson-haired girl whined. 

“It is required of all students,” Minerva said sternly, trying hard to ignore the fact that the girl was already finished. Where did she get the material for it? 

“But it’s so… boring!” She turned to face the older woman. “Can’t I at least add some color?” 

“No, and you will stop whining immediately!” Minerva said sharply. It was _way_ too early for this. She was going to need _far_ more tea if this girl was going to whine the whole time they were at Diagon Alley. Calming draught also sounded good. 

“Fine, I’ll wear it,” the girl grumbled, pouting a little. “But I’d like it to go on record that I protested!” 

Minerva stared at the girl, the older woman’s face indicating her lack of amusement. 

“Noted,” she said flatly. “Ms. Peta-Lorrum, where did you get that pattern?” 

“I found it in one of the books I read last night!” the little girl exclaimed, smiling. “Are we going to go to Diagon Alley now?” 

Minerva opened her mouth, looking for the right words. 

“You…” she said, still processing the girl’s words. “You made a robe from a pattern you read once?” 

“Yeah, why?” 

“In one night?” 

“Yeah, why?” 

“Okay,” she said slowly. “Where did you learn about Diagon Alley?” 

“In one of the books I read!” 

“How many books did you read last night?” 

“I’m not sure,” Peta-Lorrum said, looking up as she thought. “Twenty-four, I think.” 

“Twenty–,” Minerva began, then regained her composure. “How?” 

The Deputy Headmistress realized that she was starting to ask that question too much. 

“ _Scholar’s touch_ of course,” Rose replied matter-of-factly. 

“Oh, of course,” Minerva replied. She didn’t expect a better answer from the girl, so she decided to stop trying. “Well, we must be off. Have you ever used the Flu Network before?” 

“Nope!” she exclaimed. 

“Follow me, and I’ll explain on the way.” 

Minerva turned around, then turned back to make sure that the girl was moving along. To her amazement, Peta-Lorrum had already changed back into her cloak. Minerva figured that the girl had just pulled off her robe, but when she looked around, she didn’t see it. She opened her mouth to ask, but then closed it again, deciding that it wasn’t worth it. 

“Now that I’ve got a copy of the school supplies list,” McGonagall said as they left the Hospital Wing. “Let’s go down the list to figure out exactly what you need.” 

“Alright, then! Fire away!” 

“Cauldron?” 

“Got it!” 

“Where?” 

Rose pulled off a charm from her bracelet. The charm grew into a large, black hole. Rose reached into the hole and pulled out a cauldron. 

“In my _portable hole_ , of course,” she replied. “I keep all of my crafting supplies in it!” 

“Oh… Okay then,” Professor McGonagall replied as Rose replaced the hole on her bracelet. The Transfiguration Professor checked the next item on her list. “Scales?” 

“For measuring materials?” 

“Yes.” 

“Got ’em.” 

“Quills and parchment?” 

“Got ’em.” 

“Pointy hat?” 

“Why?” 

“Another part of the school uniform.” 

“Don’t have it, but I can make one in no time.” 

“Alright, then. Dragonhide gloves?” 

“ _What?!_ ” Rose practically shrieked. “ _Dragon?!_ ” 

“They’re best for handling dangerous plants and potions.” 

“Sure, whatever,” Rose said dismissively. “You did say _dragon_ , right?” 

“Yes.” 

“As in large, scaly, flying reptiles that feast on puppies and kitties and the happiness of children?” 

“Is there a problem?” 

Rose didn’t know what dragons were like _here_ , but in her plane, they were flying terrors that swooped down from the sky one day and ruined your life. Why did the entire student body require gloves made from their hide? 

“I’ve got _my_ gloves, and I can handle just about anything with them. It’s gonna take more than a few spiky plants to breach my AC, and I’m immune to fire, so I should be fine.” 

Minerva looked at the girl’s gloves, then made a note to get dragonhide gloves for her. 

_How far do this poor girl’s delusions go? Why does she think she’s immune to fire?_

“Finally, a telescope.” 

“Why would I have a telescope? They’re not at all worth their price!” 

“A telescope is required for Astronomy class.” 

“Alright, I guess I could just make one,” Rose said, stopping in her tracks. “Spyglass is probably Blacksmithing or Gemcutting, so I get +32. Toss in a _moment of prescience_ for a total of +52, and multiply it by a DC of 20 for a high-quality item, DC 30 for quick crafting, so that’s 1590 with minimum check result, 2140 maximum, and 1860 average. That would mean… five to seven weeks to complete it.” Rose grimaced. “That won’t do. Or I could just go the easy way and have _Serendipity_ make it for me.” Rose sighed. “What did I ever do without her?” 

While the strange girl was rambling, Minerva just made a note to buy her a telescope if possible. There were sure to be spares lying around somewhere. 

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum, if you’re quite finished, we must get going.” 

* * *

The trip to Diagon Alley was fairly uneventful. Sure, there were houses stacked on top of other houses, but Rose had seen something similar to that in Sentrum, the trade capital of her home plane. She was bored with all the NPCs, talking about a bunch of things that were of little consequence to her. Rose had never been one for gossip; she had Reflectesalon if she needed information. 

<Professor McGonagall is impressed by how enthusiastic you are about Transfiguration,> Reflectesalon informed her. 

<Thanks, Ref,> she replied absentmindedly. 

What _did_ interest her were her textbooks. Even with the ability to read them just by touching them, she actually wanted to read them like a normal person. After they purchased what textbooks they could from a used bookstore, Rose picked up the first one, which turned out to be her Transfiguration textbook, and began reading it. Of course, she read all of them with _scholar’s touch_ when she put them in her picnic basket after purchasing them. 

<You are also about to run into a wall.>

Rose spun on one foot to avoid the wall in front of her. 

As an item familiar with greater sapience, Reflectesalon had the ability to see, hear, and speak. However, Rose had given him strict orders not to speak out loud, as she found the looks she got when talking to her “imaginary friend” to be absolutely hilarious. The ability to see and hear meant that Reflectesalon could be her eyes and ears when she had her nose in a book or a puzzle box. 

Professor McGonagall led them to a shop that had the word “Ollivanders’” written across it. Of course, Rose didn’t notice this, as she was still reading her Transfiguration book, but Reflectesalon was kind enough to inform her about it. 

<Door.>

Rose groped around with her free hand for the doorknob, not wanting to stop reading her book. After a few tries, she finally found the doorknob, and opened the door. She suspected that Professor McGonagall had intentionally not held it open for her in an effort to get Rose to pay attention to where she was walking. Rose suspected this mostly because Reflectesalon told her as such. 

“Ah, Professor Minerva McGonagall,” an old man greeted the witch. “Nine-and-a-half inches, fir body, dragon heartstring core. Excellent for advanced Transfigurations, of course.” 

“Mr. Ollivander,” Rose’s new teacher replied, a little cheerfully. 

Rose wondered if that was that as cheerful as the woman got. What did she do that stressed her out so much? Was being second-in-command at Hogwarts that difficult? 

“This is Rose Peta-Lorrum, a prospective Muggle-born student,” Professor McGonagall explained. 

Upon hearing her name, Rose curtsied instinctively, without so much as glancing up from her book. 

“And she needs a wand, of course,” Ollivander said understandingly. “I’m sure I have just the–” 

“Actually, she already _has_ one,” Minerva said, glaring suspiciously at Rose, “I’m unsure as to how she acquired one, but I’m giving her the benefit of a doubt–” 

“I made it!” Rose said excitedly, having finally put down the book to pay enough attention to the conversation. 

_This should be good,_ Minerva thought. She was still working on trying to figure out how the girl had apparated the previous day, but the only conclusion she had was that the girl was a House-elf in disguise. When Minerva honestly entertained the idea, it made perfect sense. 

Few creatures of which Minerva knew were capable of apparating within the grounds of Hogwarts, and House-elves were one of them. Adding to that how ridiculous the girl’s name was, and that she didn’t talk about real places, an uneducated House-elf disguising itself as a human in order to sneak into Hogwarts fit all the details she had perfectly. 

Which brought Minerva’s thoughts to the girl’s wand. Peta-Lorrum claimed that she had made it herself, so Minerva was confident that the “wand” would be just a stick the girl carved in the woods. The intention of bringing the girl to see Ollivander was to have an expert see the wand, thus outing the girl before she made it to Sorting. 

“Why don’t I have a look at it?” Ollivander suggested, breaking the silence. “I presume that that is your purpose here today.” 

“It is,” Minerva confirmed. “Ms. Peta-Lorrum, would you please hand Mr. Ollivander your wand?” 

Rose hesitated. She didn’t like letting people use her equipment, _especially_ _Serendipity_. When she graduated from Arcrel, Headmaster Ozerl had imparted upon her the secret to crafting equipment such that only a chosen person could use it. Rose had then abused this secret and made all of her equipment work only for her. 

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum, I promise I’ll be as delicate as I possibly can,” Ollivander assured her. “If you truly did make your own wand, then you know how steady one’s hands must be. It’s very precise and delicate work, and I would never want to damage another crafter’s handiwork.” 

<He is telling the truth, Rose. This man does not intend to harm _Serendipity_. >

<He had better not. I’ll conflagrate him if he does.>

If there was one thing to be said about Rose’s vocabulary, it involved many words for “to set on fire”. 

Rose flicked her wrist and _Serendipity_ appeared in her left hand. One component of each of her gloves was a _casting glove_ , which allowed her to store and activate a single magic item in each glove. _Serendipity_ stayed in her left glove, and her other baby stayed in her right. 

Rose carefully handed _Serendipity_ to Ollivander, who used just as much care in handling her as Rose. 

Ollivander gingerly held _Serendipity_ as he brought her over to a small table, as Rose walked alongside him. 

Professor McGonagall followed, but kept her distance to allow Ollivander to do his work. 

Ollivander took a seat at the table which was covered in tools. Many of them were tools for carving or polishing wood, and suspended over the table was a large magnifying glass. Ollivander placed the “wand” on the table, and looked at her through the magnifying glass. 

“Fascinating. While the specific magic of a wand is complex, there are three primary components: the body, the core, and the runes. Starting with the runes, I see a pattern to them, although the layout is unfamiliar. All the runes are etched in here, although I have never seen most of these. What language are these?” 

_Really?_ Rose thought. _Those were just decoration. Why do they need runes for their wands?_

In Rose’s home plane of De’rok, wands were charged with magic at creation, and the magic faded with each use. A fully-charged wand had 50 uses, or “charges”, and after that it was a stick. _Serendipity_ was a staff, which operated on similar rules, but staves were typically stronger, and could thus hold more powerful spells. As Rose had learned, wands in her new plane were different, in that multiple spells could be cast from them, unlike at home, where only one spell could be cast from a wand. 

“I mostly used Ignan and Celestial runes, although there are a bunch of Dwarven and Elven runes, and even one or two Illumian runes.” 

“Ignan?” 

“Common language on the Elemental Plane of Fire,” Rose said, as if that explained everything. “Celestial is typically spoken on the Upper Planes, and Dwarven and Elven speak for themselves.” 

“What’s an Illumian?” Minerva asked, hoping to poke holes in the girl’s stories. 

“A race that used to be human,” Rose explained. “Their founder, whose name I forget, infused himself with the magic of a language he discovered.” 

“Finely polished wood,” Ollivander continued, turning back to the wand. “What is this material? It looks like normal wood, but there aren’t as many cracks as I would expect.” 

“Darkwood,” Rose told him, taking a few steps towards the table. “It’s far more durable than normal wood, but just as light. Also, I liked the color!” 

“Fascinating. What did you use for the core?” 

Rose froze up. She didn’t have a plausible answer for that. She didn’t even know what that meant! 

<Ref, help?>

<He suspects unicorn hair,> Reflectesalon offered. 

“Unicorn hair,” she repeated. 

“As I suspected,” Ollivander said. “Although I don’t recognize this specific runic pattern, it certainly suggests unicorn hair. This is truly remarkable work, little girl. I see no seal from where the two halves were joined around the core. That’s very difficult to do. Where did you learn to do this?” 

“Arcrel Academy!” 

_Her imaginary school again_ , thought McGonagall. 

“I’ve never heard of that particular establishment, but the staff there should be commended for their teaching abilities,” Ollivander said, handing _Serendipity_ back to Rose. “Would you mind giving us a demonstration of its abilities?” 

“She,” Rose corrected. “ _Serendipity_ is female.” 

“Of course.” 

Rose ran through everything that she had learned in the past day, and figured that a quick illusion would suffice. 

Due to the inability to place more than one charge on _Serendipity_ , Rose had to _power surge_ her first. _Power surge_ was one of Rose’s favorite infusions. For a small XP cost, she could add four temporary charges to any of her staves or wands. Most adventurers didn’t like XP costs, but Rose typically collected enough to make up for it. 

She waved _Serendipity_ as if she were conducting an orchestra. She could pick any verbal component she liked thanks to her False Theurgy skill trick, and according to the research she’d done, spells in that plane needed a verbal component. 

<Elven sounds magical,> she told Reflectesalon. <I’ll use Elven.>

“ _Tia cla_ ,” she whispered quietly. 

As she did, she waved _Serendipity_ gently through the air. Rose petals began to flutter out of her “wand”, swirling around her as if there were a soft breeze. Each one slowly fell to the floor as they circled the girl. As each petal touched the ground, it turned to dust, fading away into nothing. 

Rose watched all of this with a look of satisfaction. 

“Well, there you have it,” Ollivander said. “I believe her wand will suffice.” 

Minerva watched the spectacle with amazement. Not only had the girl gotten her “wand” past Ollivander, the best of the best, but it actually _did_ something. Peta-Lorrum had successfully cast a spell from her wand, although Minerva remained suspicious of the girl. Minerva had never heard of that particular spell, and she’d at least _heard_ of most spells in existence. Sure, the effects were easily produced, but not with that incantation. 

Most importantly, if the wand actually worked, then there were two plausible explanations: Either the girl was telling the truth, or the wand was stolen. House-elves could easily use magic, especially the older ones. A House-elf stealing a wand from its former master explained everything. 

“Thank you, Sir,” Rose said. With a flick of her wrist, _Serendipity_ returned to her glove. “It was nice meeting you!” 

“And you as well, Ms. Peta-Lorrum.” Ollivander turned to Professor McGonagall. “Until the next time, Professor?” 

“Until the next time,” she replied, nodding. 

* * *

Hermione Granger boarded the Hogwarts Express the next morning and began to look for somewhere to sit. Everywhere she looked, there were people already talking with one another. Just like it was in primary school, everyone but her had friends. 

It wasn’t that she couldn’t sit down and start talking to people. Many of the students here were new, just like her, but if primary school was any indication of what Hogwarts would be like, then she was better keeping to herself. Besides which, all Hermione wanted to do was read. With luck, she’d find someone quiet, or a compartment on her own where she could sit quietly and read one of her books. 

Hermione got to the end of the train and found the one compartment that was nearly empty. It’s sole occupant was a girl in a red cloak and black dress, curled up on the floor with a book in her hand. If Hermione wasn’t mistaken, the other girl was reading their Potions textbook. 

_Probably a first-year_ , Hermione thought. 

“Is it alright if I sit here?” Hermione asked. “Most of the other compartments are taken.” 

“Sure!” 

Hermione sat down in the compartment, taking her one of her books out of her bag. That was when she noticed that the other girl’s hair was crimson. Not red, as Hermione had originally thought, and not a trick of the light. 

_She must dye it,_ Hermione thought. _Or whatever it is wizards do. She can’t be Muggle-born with those clothes._

“How come you’re sitting on the floor?” Hermione asked the crimson-haired girl. 

“Because I like to curl up when I read, and I didn’t want to put my boots on the seats.” 

“Why not just take off your boots?” 

“I like my boots! I mean sure, once I activate them in the morning, I don’t need them until the next morning, but still!” 

Hermione wasn’t sure how to respond to that. What did the other girl mean by “activate”? 

“‘Activate’?” Hermione asked, determined to learn everything about her new world. 

“Yup!” the girl exclaimed. She closed her book and hopped up on the opposite seat. “Mostly the primal suite. You know, _primal instincts_ and all those. Also, a schema of _swift haste_.” 

“ _Primal instincts_?” Hermione asked. 

She knew many spells had an English name in addition to their incantations, but she hadn’t heard of that one. 

“Second-level Ranger spell,” replied the girl as if it were common knowledge. “You’ve also got the first-level _primal hunter_ , third-level _primal senses_ , and fourth-level _primal speed_.” 

_Definitely not a Muggle-born_ , Hermione thought. _And probably not a first-year either. What does ‘level’ mean? Is that another way of saying part of the second-year curriculum?_

“My name’s Rose,” the other girl said. “Rose Peta-Lorrum!” 

“Sorry, did you say ‘Rose Petal’?” 

“Peta-Lorrum,” Rose corrected her. “Mum’s last name was Peta, Dad’s was Lorrum, and neither wanted to change. So, they gave me both of them!” 

“Oh,” the other girl replied. “Er, sorry, my name’s Hermione Granger.” 

“Nice to meet you, Hermione!” 

“Nice to meet you, I guess,” Hermione replied. 

Rose tilted her head. 

“Are you alright?” 

“Yeah,” Hermione replied quickly. “It’s just a lot to take in. I’m a Muggle-born, so this is all new to me.” 

“Oh,” Rose said. 

“What about you?” Hermione asked. “Pureblood?” 

“Nope!” Rose exclaimed. “Mum wasn’t a Witch, and Dad wasn’t a Wizard!” 

“If you’re not a pureblood, then how come you know so much magic already?” 

“My brother told me about the primal suite,” Rose replied. 

“Oh,” Hermione said. “So you’re both Muggle-born?” 

“I guess,” Rose said. “Sk’lar’s adopted, though.” 

_You’ve got to be kidding me,_ Hermione thought. _Her name is “Rose Petal”, and his name is “Scholar”._

“No,” Rose said. “ _Peta-Lorrum_ and _Sk’lar_.” 

“Alright,” Hermione said, still not believing the girl. Hermione didn’t know what to believe, but that sounded too ridiculous to be true. Then again, the Headmaster of Hogwarts was called “Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore” according to _Hogwarts: A History_ , so maybe Rose did just have a strange name. 

A boy with a round face pulled the compartment door open. He looked panicked, and there were even tears in his eyes. 

“Excuse me,” he said. “Have either of you seen a toad? He got away from me, and now I can’t find him anywhere!” 

“No, sorry,” Hermione replied. 

“Nope!” Rose said, pulling a charm off of her bracelet. “But I can find him for you!” 

“You can?” he asked hopefully. 

Before the childrens’ eyes, the charm grew into a full-sized quiver. From that quiver she produced a staff. 

“ _Prying Eyes_ ” 

Several orange, floating orbs appeared and began to orbit around the crimson-haired girl, patiently awaiting orders. 

“Search the train,” she instructed them. “Come back if you find a toad.” 

The orbs flew out of the compartment. The boy stared at the orbs as they flew off. 

“What was that spell?” Hermione asked. 

“ _Prying Eyes_.” 

“That doesn’t sound like any of the spells I’ve heard of, and I’ve already read the _Standard Book of Spells_. Volumes One _and_ Two.” 

“Most people underestimate its usefulness,” Rose continued. “It’s great for brute-force searching. Although, now that I think about it, I could’ve just used _locate creature_ , but _prying eyes_ is a lot more fun.” 

One of the eyes flew back into the compartment, and landed in Rose’s hand. She stared at it for a few seconds, then it vanished and she turned to the boy. 

“Neville, there’s a toad outside the second compartment down,” Rose informed him. “That might be him.” 

“Thanks,” he replied. “Wait, how did you know my name?” 

“My imaginary friend told me!” Rose exclaimed, beaming. “He can read minds!” 

The two students stared at her for a moment, then Neville ran to get his toad. 

“So Hermione, you like reading?” Rose asked. 

“Yeah. I’ve already read all the first-year textbooks,” Hermione replied confidently. 

“So you’re just starting, then?” asked Rose. 

“Yeah, you?” 

“Yup!” 

Hermione nodded. She glanced out the window, wondering how long it was until they reached Hogwarts. It couldn’t have been too much longer, and she wanted to change into her robes soon. 

“I’ll head outside to see if Neville needs any help finding Trevor,” Rose said. “You should change into your robes in the meantime. You seem worried about it.” 

“Thanks,” Hermione replied, as Rose left. 

Hermione watched her leave, then began to change into the wool furnace that they called robes. 

“How did she know I was getting antsy about our robes?” she asked herself. “She can’t _really_ read peoples’ minds. Can she?” 

* * *

Before too long, the train pulled into Hogwarts. Hermione wasn’t sure when Rose had changed into her robes, but she had reentered the compartment wearing them, so Hermione figured the crimson-haired girl had pulled them on while she was out. 

After being led by an enormous man, and crossing a lake, they arrived at the castle. 

Professor McGonagall lined up the first-years in alphabetical order according to last name. That put Rose between a slightly panicky girl with dirty-blonde hair and a rather shy boy with jet black hair. 

“What do you think they’re going to have us do?” the girl asked. 

<Sally-Anne Perks,> Reflectesalon told Rose. 

“I don’t know,” Rose replied. “All the books I’ve read were rather vague about it. It must be some sort of mind reading, since we get sorted by personality traits.” 

“Personality traits?” asked Sally-Anne, still panicky. 

“I just don’t want to be sorted into Slytherin,” the boy behind her mumbled. 

<Harry Potter.>

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Rose said dismissively. “If it’s personality-based, then if you don’t want to be somewhere, you won’t!” 

“How can you be so sure?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“If you don’t want to be somewhere, then it conflicts with your personality, right?” 

“I guess,” Sally-Anne said. Harry just nodded. 

When they arrived at the Great Hall, all eyes were on them. In the center of the back wall, there was a stool with a pointed hat perched on it. To the surprise of the students, and fascination of Rose, it started singing. 

After it was finished, each of the students were called up one by one. As each student was called, the hat was placed on their head. Most students were immediately placed in one house or another by the hat. There were a few, such as Hermione, who took almost a minute to be sorted. 

While this was going on, Rose had her notebook out and was jotting down each person and where they were sorted. One of her friends from back home had once told her that anything could be important, so Rose was certain to record everything. Both Hermione and Sally-Anne were sorted into Gryffindor. With Neville also being placed into Gryffindor, Rose found it interesting that everyone she had met so far was being placed in Gryffindor. 

“Peta-Lorrum, Rose!” 

“Good luck, Harry,” she whispered to Harry as she skipped over to the stool. Hiding her hands in her sleeves, she flicked out _Serendipity_ and _power surged_ her. Hiding away _Serendipity_ again, Rose sat down on the stool, and the Sorting Hat was placed on her head. 

“Salutations, Funny Talking Hat!” Rose whispered. She used the word _hat_ to trigger the spell _doublespeak_. 

The skill trick False Theurgy allowed her to change the verbal component of any spell she cast to that of another spell of the same level. _Wish_ was a ninth-level spell, which gave her a limited number of choices for spells. Fortunately for her, one of those spells was _power word kill_ , which had an arbitrary verbal component, so long as it was a single word. That meant that she could cast _wish_ from _Serendipity_ using any single word she wanted, so long as she thought her actual wish. 

_Doublespeak_ was a spell that disguised a conversation to those outside of the conversation. To the rest of the Great Hall, the Hat and Rose were talking about random, mundane topics. Rose wasn’t sure about what she would be speaking, but she wanted to continue the “mad girl” impression she was giving the staff for her own amusement. 

“How do you work?” 

“Muggle-born, eh?” asked the Hat. “Most purebloods just accept that I’m magical.” 

“Well, _obviously_ you’re magical, but what _sort_ of magic?” 

The Hat paused for a moment, evidently confused. 

“Occlumency shields?” the Hat asked. “Apparently _not_ Muggle-born. Please lower your occlumency shields, young lady.” 

“Occlumency, occlumency,” Rose muttered. “What’s an occlumency?” 

“The shielding you’ve got over your mind,” the Sorting Hat said impatiently. 

“Oh, that’s _mind blank_!” 

“What’s _mind blank_?” 

“An eighth-level spell that prevents attempts to ‘detect, influence, or read emotions or thoughts’. It also lasts for 24 hours!” 

“Whatever it is, would you please stop it?” 

“Hmmmm,” Rose thought for a second. “Nope!” 

“Why not?” 

“Because I can’t just suppress it. If I wanted to grant you access, I’d have to figure out some way of dispelling it, since I can’t just dismiss it either. I mean sure, I could set up an _antimagic field_ , but then that’d disable you! And that’s not to mention all of my own equipment. Maybe a _suppressing field_ , but that’s pretty hit and miss.” 

“I can’t place you if–” 

“I wanna be in Gryffindor!” 

The Hat paused for a moment. 

“Why?” 

“Because that’s where you put Hermione, and she’s my friend!” 

“Which makes you the crimson-haired girl with the odd name she met on the Express.” 

“See? Friends!” 

“Little girl, give me one good reason why I shouldn’t have Professor Dumbledore expel you right now.” 

“Because I’ve got three charges left on _Serendipity_ , and one of them could be a _disintegrate_ with your name on it.” 

While the Sorting Hat excelled at reading minds, that didn’t mean it wasn’t good at reading people. Most years, the students were sorted the second they all walked into the Great Hall. This year was no different; Malfoy went to Slytherin with his goons, and Weasley would be sorted into Gryffindor. The Abbot girl was easily pegged as a Hufflepuff, although Granger had been tricky. 

Given how this girl spoke and presented herself, the Hat had every reason to believe that she was telling the truth. So it decided to humor the girl. 

“And you think you would do well in Gryffindor?” 

“You said something about bravery in your song, right?” 

“Yes,” the hat replied curtly. 

“Well, I’m brave!” 

“How so?” 

“The entire school is staring at me wondering about what we’re talking, hoping that we wrap it up soon,” Rose replied. “And I’m _still_ talking, despite the hundreds of people wanting me to stop. How is that not brave?” 

“…” the hat …’d. 

“Also, one of their house colours is red, and I like red!” 

The Sorting Hat wasn’t sure about this girl. It felt that it should notify Professor Dumbledore immediately about the problematic student, but for the time being, it needed to put her somewhere. If there were any house that would take someone eager to join because they wanted to be with their friend, it was Hufflepuff. On the other hand, putting her in Hufflepuff wouldn’t end well for Hufflepuff. 

She hadn’t smirked once, so Slytherin was out, and Ravenclaw didn’t seem like a good fit either. 

_Might as well,_ thought the Sorting Hat. 

“GRYFFINDOR!” 

A thunderous applause erupted from the Gryffindor table as Rose stood up and handed the hat back to McGonagall. As she skipped over to the Gryffindor table, Rose was fairly certain that she had heard a faint groan from Professor McGonagall as she walked passed. 

Rose took her seat next to Hermione as Harry was also sorted into Gryffindor. 

<That _can’t_ be a coincidence, > Rose said to Reflectesalon. She jotted down a few more notes in her notebook as the Sorting ended. 

After the Sorting, Professor Dumbledore stood up and addressed the Great Hall. 

“ _Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!_ ” 

“What?” Hermione asked. “Is he alright?” 

Rose wasn’t paying attention. She was busy furiously scribbling down the exact words that Dumbledore had just said. 

“It’s gotta be a puzzle of some sort,” Rose said. “Maybe phonetics? NBOT? No, that doesn’t make any sense. Maybe an anagram? OBNT? ONBT? TOBN? BTON? Maybe it’s something to do with the actual words? ‘Nitwit, blubber, oddment, tweak’.” 

Rose continued her ramblings as food appeared on the table in front of her. Her _ring of greater sustenance_ removed the need to eat or drink, so while the rest of the table ignored her, she ignored the food. 

After the feast, Professor Dumbledore told them a few more rules, but only two were of importance. The first was that they weren’t allowed to use magic in the corridors. That made sense to Rose, but she knew they didn’t keep _antimagic fields_ in the hallways, otherwise her equipment wouldn’t have worked. Failing that, how were they enforcing that rule? _Were_ they enforcing that rule? 

“ _I must tell you that this year, the third floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death._ ” 

Rose’s eyes grew wide, and her mind began to spin with the possibilities. What would they have in a school that would necessitate warning students not to go near it? 

Whatever it was, Rose couldn’t wait to find out. 


	3. Lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hermione, Rose, and Sally-Anne give their opinions on the classes of Hogwarts.

**Disclaimer** : Lesson One: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter. 

* * *

After the feast, the Gryffindor students were escorted to their common room by an older boy with orange hair. Hermione noticed that he didn’t just have orange hair, but it was perfectly combed. Most of the boys had messy hair, but this boy didn’t have one hair out of place. Hermione wondered if he was using magic to keep his hair so neat. She would love a spell that could keep her own hair in check; it was impossible to manage. The bushy haired girl had given up on trying to deal with it years ago, but if she could just use magic for it, then her troubles might be over. 

“My name is Percy Weasley,” he said. “I’m one of the fifth-year prefects. There are six prefects in total in Gryffindor; two from years five, six and seven.” 

Rose also noticed his orange hair, but what she noticed was that it was the exact same shade of orange as three of the other students. Flipping through her notebook, she saw that one of the first-years was named _Ronald_ Weasley. That most likely meant that there were four Weasley students at Hogwarts, all of whom had been sorted into Gryffindor. She circled the name “Weasley” in her notebook as Reflectesalon gave her the highlights of Percy’s lecture on the school’s command structure. That couldn’t be a coincidence; they would probably be important at some point. There were too many of them for them to be PCs, so they would probably just be support characters. 

The shortest one, presumably Ronald, was following Harry Potter around like a lost puppy. Many of the girls had spent dinner talking about Harry, which led Rose to wonder where she had heard his name. At the end of dinner, it finally occurred to Rose where she had heard it. He was famous for defeating Dark Lord What’s-His-Name when he was a baby, which probably made him a PC, or Player Character. That meant that Ronald would probably become Harry’s cohort if Harry decided to take Leadership. 

In Rose’s world, PCs were the important people. It was about PCs that songs were written and stories were told, rather than NPCs, or Non-Player Characters. Whereas the PCs were important, NPCs were disposable, easily mistaken for inanimate objects. 

As Rose wrote down the word “Cohort” next to Ronald’s name, they arrived at the entrance to the Gryffindor Common Room, which was guarded by a portrait of a large woman. Percy explained that they would need a password to enter the Common Room. 

“Does the Fat Lady always let a person in when they give the password?” Rose asked. 

“Yes, she does,” Percy replied. “Further, you _must_ give the password for her to let you inside the Common Room.” 

“Why protect it?” Rose asked. 

“It’s to keep out the Slytherins,” whispered the boy that Reflectesalon confirmed was Ronald. 

“Not _just_ the Slytherins, Ronald,” Percy scolded. “The four houses can be a bit competitive, so it’s better to keep each one safe from the others.” 

Rose made a note of this while Percy told everyone the password. As Rose was once again not paying attention, Reflectesalon, being the sensible one, later informed her of the password. 

The Gryffindor Common Room itself was rather cozy. There was a fireplace on one wall, with a few couches and chairs littered here and there. There were a few bookshelves, but upon further inspection, they were mostly filled with books on Quidditch, whatever that was. The entire room was decorated with red and gold. 

“Boys, if you’ll come with me, I’ll show you to your room!” Percy called out. He led the five boys out of the room and up a staircase. 

“What about us?!” one of the other girls called after him. 

“The other fifth-year prefect should be along shortly!” Percy shouted back. 

“Great!” the girl complained. “What are we supposed to do until then?!” 

“Why don’t we all get to know one another?” suggested another girl with bronze skin. “My name’s Parvati Patil.” 

“Lavender Brown,” grumbled the other girl. 

“Rose Peta-Lorrum!” 

“Hermione Granger.” 

“S-sally-Anne Perks,” stuttered Sally-Anne. 

Sally-Anne had already decided that she didn’t belong there. Ever since getting off the train, it had been one surge of mystery and wonder after another. She was scared and amazed at the same time, but being around so many new people who all seemed to know what was going on was starting to bother her. It wouldn’t have bothered her so much except that she hadn’t the faintest idea what she was doing. 

Now they were left alone in their common room, abandoned by the only authority figure, with a faint promise that another would show up to explain everything. 

“Alex Nertlyn.” 

The five girls turned to see another girl with black, curly hair climbing through the portrait. 

“Sorry about that, girls, Professor McGonagall needed me for something. If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to your rooms. Unfortunately, the first-years always get the top floor, so it’s a bit of a hike.” 

Lavender groaned again, but Rose just grinned. She skipped along just behind Alex as the latter led the girls up the winding staircase. To Rose’s dismay, this one didn’t move. 

“Word of caution while climbing these stairs,” Alex said on the way up. “The girls’ rooms are protected by a ward that turns the staircase into a slide if one of the boys tries to come up here. It gets really annoying if the boys find out, so don’t tell them. The boys have been known to follow a girl up here just to make her fall back down.” 

“So if one of our housemates harasses us, we can’t escape?” gasped Sally-Anne. 

“If one of your housemates is harassing you,” Alex replied. “You come straight to me, or to Percy, or to Professor McGonagall. She’s our house head, and if one of her own is doing something like that, she’ll sort it. Trust me, you don’t want to cross her.” 

Sally-Anne let out a small sigh of relief. Of everything she had learned about Hogwarts, _that_ was the most terrifying to her. Why was that like that? Did the teachers think it was protecting the girls? Why not just put a barrier that specifically kept out boys? Why turn the stairs into a slide? That made no sense! They had magic! If there was anything fairy tales had taught her, it was that magic was only limited by imagination. 

They reached the top floor, finding a semi-circular room with five beds lining the curved wall and a window between each one. Several trunks and bags were placed on four of the beds. The only empty bed was the closest one on their left. 

“Well, it’s not much,” Alex said, “but for the next year, it’s home. Feel free to decorate anyway you like, but remember there are five of you, so I’d suggest that you clear anything major with your roommates first. Also, as you may have noticed, your belongings have already been brought up for you. They were just placed on the beds at random, so you can always change beds if you like.” 

Alex waited to see five heads nodding to at least show that they were paying attention. After seeing three heads (Lavender still seemed sour about walking up seven flights of stairs and Rose wasn’t paying attention), she took it and continued. 

“Curfew is at nine, so _please_ don’t be out of Gryffindor Tower past then. Not only has the Fat Lady been known to fall asleep past then, but you will get in trouble if Filch catches you.” 

Rose raised her hand. 

“Yes, er, Rose, was it?” 

“Yup!” Rose beamed. “What if we can’t sleep? Are we allowed to go to the common room?” 

“As long as you don’t leave Gryffindor Tower,” Alex replied. 

“Also, you said ‘ _If_ Filch catches us’,” Rose continued. 

“It’s _really_ not a risk worth taking. The prefects take turns patrolling the castle at night, and even the professors occasionally take midnight strolls. If none of them catch you, then the portraits may report on you if _they_ catch you. The only ones who never seem to get caught are the Weasley Twins, but anyone else who tries gets caught sooner or later. And then we _all_ get in trouble.” 

Rose nodded, and wrote down “ _Weasley Twins?_ ” in her notebook. 

“Rose, if you don’t mind me asking,” Alex said, “are you taking notes?” 

“Yup!” Rose replied, as cheerful as ever. “My friend Shadow told me that it’s a good way to analyse information all at once, rather than relying on my memory, which could distort the facts.” 

“I guess that makes sense,” Alex replied. “Let’s see, what else… curfew, annoying stairs, Weasley Twins… Oh! Right! The House Cup. You’ll hear talk about house points. Teachers can award house points to you if they think you’re doing a good job, and of course, they can take away house points as punishment. That all goes towards the House Cup, which is awarded at the end of every year.” 

“What about our schedules?” Hermione asked. 

“You’ll get them tomorrow morning during breakfast,” Alex replied. 

“Will we have time to get our books before class?” 

“You should,” Alex said. “I can’t say I know your schedules now, so I can’t help you, and yes, there are six floors between the Great Hall and Gryffindor Tower, and then another seven flights to get to your rooms. I’m so sorry. If it’s any consolation, I don’t know my schedule either.” 

Looking out at her new charges, Alex saw that the only one still happy was Rose, but Alex was also starting to think that there was something wrong with her. This was supported by Professor McGonagall herself pulling Alex aside after dinner and informing her that the Transfiguration Professor believed there to be something amiss with the crimson-haired girl. 

“Remember, even though I’m a prefect, I’m specifically assigned to you girls,” Alex said. “That won’t change until I graduate, so until then, if you’ve ever got any problems, no matter what time it is, I’m happy to listen. If it’s a problem with adjusting to life at Hogwarts, your classmates are harassing you, or you just want to talk about boys, my door’s always open. With that, I’ll let you all get comfortable. Breakfast starts at seven and goes til eight thirty.” 

After Alex left, the first-year girls began to settle into their new beds. Rose took the empty bed, with the next bed clockwise from hers being taken by Sally-Anne, then Lavender, Parvati, and Hermione on the far wall from Rose. 

“Rose, haven’t you got any belongings?” asked Sally-Anne as she unpacked her own things. 

“All right here!” Rose exclaimed, holding up her left hand. She shook her arm a few times, causing the charms on her bracelet to jingle together. 

“Huh?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“It’s a _wand bracelet!_ I’ve got my _portable hole_ for anything I don’t need immediately.” Rose indicated a black circle charm. “Then, I’ve got my _efficient quiver_ for wands and staves, my _infinite scrollcase_ for all of my scrolls, and finally my _Picnic Basket_ for miscellaneous tools!” 

“I got ‘picnic basket’ out of that,” Parvati said. 

“Um…” Lavender tried to formulate a question, but couldn’t find the right words. “What?” 

“I know what you’re all thinking,” Rose said. “‘How can a _wand bracelet_ hold all of that?’ The limit is four charms, so no problems there. Surprisingly enough, a _portable hole_ doesn’t actually weigh anything, and there’s no _size_ limit, just a _weight_ limit of three pounds.” She grinned. “My _picnic basket_ is a lightweight _handy haversack_ , but I don’t really worry about it not being able to carry as much.” 

The four girls stared at her. Rose rolled over and grinned back at them. 

“I’m not sure about the rest of you,” Lavender said, “but that was _not_ what I was thinking.” 

“Is that normal?” Sally-Anne asked Parvati. 

“No,” Parvati replied, shaking her head. “At least, I’ve never heard of that stuff.” 

Hermione tried to tune out the strange girl. It seemed like all the boys talked about was Quidditch or the House Cup. Most of the girls had gossiped over dinner, mostly about Harry Potter, and Rose had just rambled on about nonsense. Hermione decided that she’d need to find some Ravenclaws if she wanted some decent conversation. 

Hermione wasn’t ignorant enough to believe that she’d read about everything, but nothing Rose was saying made any sense to her. She expected to understand at least something Rose said, but she couldn’t keep up with any of it. There must’ve been plenty of students with older siblings that taught them something about magic, but Rose kept spouting facts that no one else recognized. Why was it that Rose didn’t make sense, while everyone else _did_. 

Sally-Anne, on the other hand, was almost delighted. Having small charms to carry one’s luggage seemed like a great idea. That’s what magic was all about in her mind. It was solving problems in creative ways. 

* * *

During breakfast the next morning, Alex distributed schedules to the first-year Gryffindor girls, while Percy distributed them to the first-year Gryffindor boys. 

Rose looked down at her schedule. First class of the day was Transfiguration, which sounded like fun. 

What confused Rose about her schedule was that classes were scattered throughout the week with no pattern or consistency. It looked like there were two periods before lunch, then a break, then class after lunch on some days. 

At Arcrel, most classes were twice a week, with days at the start of the week typically reflecting those at the end of the week. That had made perfect sense to Rose, but there was no regularity in her Hogwarts schedule. Who scheduled it? It was as if someone had just randomly assigned times to classes, with no rhyme or reason; like someone had just kept tossing a d6 to pick classes. 

* * *

**Earlier that Summer**

“Albus, why must you use dice to schedule the classes?” Minerva asked as Albus rolled the cube again. 

“When one is a target of the Ministry’s scrutiny as often as I am, Minerva,” Albus replied. “One must enjoy a bit of whimsy every now and again.” 

“‘Whimsy?’” Minerva asked skeptically. “Like sending over a thousand letters to the Dursleys using even more ridiculous delivery methods?” 

“That was necessary to ensure that they were received.” 

“Or always using sweets for passwords?” 

“Those are easier for me to remember.” 

“Or using your opening words to give everyone a hint as to the year’s password to your office?” 

Albus paused for a moment. 

“ _That_ , Minerva, is most _certainly_ whimsy.” 

Minerva sighed as Albus popped a lemon drop in his mouth and tossed the die again. 

* * *

“ _Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts_ ,” Professor McGonagall told her students. “ _Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned._ ” 

For each class, two houses were paired together. For Transfiguration, Gryffindor was paired with Hufflepuff. Rose had expected Professor McGonagall to know their faces already, being her house, but what had surprised Rose was that McGonagall had mentally called roll as each student walked in the door. That implied that Professor McGonagall not only knew their faces, but the faces of the Hufflepuffs as well. 

“Now, can anyone tell me exactly what Transfiguration is?” 

Hermione’s hand shot into the air. 

“Ms. Granger?” 

“Transfiguration is a branch of magic that deals with the alteration of an object’s appearance or structure,” Hermione recited from their textbook. 

“Correct, Ms. Granger. Three points to Gryffindor.” 

“As Ms. Granger said, Transfiguration deals with the alteration of an object. It is for this reason, that, as I stated earlier, it is widely considered one of the most potent, and therefore _dangerous_ branches of magic. Would anyone care to take a guess as to what the most important rule of Transfiguration is?” 

Minerva believed in actively engaging her students, regardless of whether her students wanted to be engaged. Unfortunately, today that style of teaching had the potential to backfire on Minerva, because today Rose Peta-Lorrum was in her class. And, to Minerva’s dismay, it was Peta-Lorrum whose hand was in the air before anyone else could react. Minerva suppressed a groan. 

_I’m sure I’ll regret this later_ , she thought. “Ms. Peta-Lorrum?” 

“‘The most important rule of Transfiguration is that one must know the exact effects of, and a means of reversing, a spell before one casts it.’” 

Minerva blinked. That was coherent. That wasn’t just coherent, it was _correct_. On top of that, it was from one of Minerva’s own research papers. Word for word. Rose Peta-Lorrum had _memorized_ something out of Minerva’s own work. Not even the _Ravenclaws_ prepared that thoroughly. 

“Well done, Ms. Peta-Lorrum,” Minerva said, none of her shock betrayed by her face. “Another three points to Gryffindor.” 

Rose beamed. 

<See, Ref? Didn’t I say doing some extra reading last night was a good idea?>

<We were almost caught.>

<Nah, I was invisible.>

<But the _greater prying eyes_ weren’t. >

<We were fine!>

“This is of course correct,” Professor McGonagall continued. “One should _never_ attempt a spell until one knows _exactly_ what it will do, and _exactly_ how to reverse it. This means that one needs to know what the effects of the spell are before one casts it.” 

The rest of the class was spent discussing theory, something that they would be doing frequently, according to Professor McGonagall. 

Fortunately for Rose, who was getting bored with theory, they would be practicing actual Transfiguration later. They would first be studying a spell to turn a matchstick into a pin, and then at the end of the class they would actually attempt it. 

About 20 minutes before class ended, McGonagall distributed matchsticks to the class. 

“To test your basic understanding of Transfiguration,” Professor McGonagall told them, “you will be attempting to transfigure these matchsticks into pins. Don’t worry if you can’t do it yet, this is only an initial evaluation of your current skill levels.” 

_Wait, what? Spellcasting isn’t skill-based_ , thought Rose as a matchstick was placed in front of her. She slid her left hand into her sleeve and produced _Serendipity_. Rose wanted to maintain the charade that she actually needed to store _Serendipity_ somewhere that wasn’t her glove. 

Rose _power surged_ _Serendipity_ , but extended the infusion so the charges would last longer than 20 minutes, which was the typical duration of _power surge_. There was no sense in wasting three charges, after all. 

In Rose’s world, adventurers could take feats as they grew in strength. Feats varied in usefulness, but there were none quite like metamagic feats. These feats all modified spells or infusions, and one such feat was called Extend Spell. This feat doubled the duration of a spell or infusion, at the cost of a higher level slot. So instead of using _power surge_ as a third-level infusion as Rose typically did, she was using it as a fourth-level infusion. 

The difference was that Rose could use less fourth-level infusions than she could third-level infusions each day. Given how infrequently she used her other infusions, she wasn’t concerned about this limit. 

Rose practiced the wand motions a few times to make sure that she got them right. Regardless of whether she got the wand motions correct, the effects would still be the same. That being the case, Rose didn’t want to make a mistake and draw suspicion to herself. Rather, she wanted people to believe that she actually needed a wand to cast spells. 

Rose muttered an inaudible incantation and tapped her matchstick. Using _Serendipity_ , Rose replicated the spell _polymorph any object_ to turn the matchstick into a pin for the next few hours. 

“Well done,” Professor McGonagall said as she walked past. She picked up the pin on Rose’s desk, and dropped it. There was an almost inaudible _tink_ as it hit the ground. “Very well done. Five points to Gryffindor.” 

“Thank you, Ma’am,” Rose replied, beaming. 

Professor McGonagall turned to Hermione, who had what looked like a metal toothpick on her desk. Just as she had done with Rose’s pin, Professor McGonagall dropped it on the ground, and it made a similar _tink_ sound. 

“You too, Ms. Granger,” Professor McGonagall praised her. “Not perfect, but phenomenal nonetheless. Four points to Gryffindor.” 

She picked up the metal toothpick, and took Rose’s pin from her desk. 

“Class, pay attention. This is what I expect from each of you by the end of the month.” Professor McGonagall held up the two pins. 

Rose looked around and realized that she and Hermione were the only two that had made any progress at all. Rose held up her hand to Hermione, who gave Rose a very hesitant high-five. 

Sally-Anne watched this, then looked down at her own matchstick. She couldn’t get it to so much as change color. Sally-Anne was happy for her friends, but still disappointed that she couldn’t get it. She had been so excited about doing magic that she hadn’t stopped to think that it was like any other skill. It took practice and hard work to master it. Magic wasn’t just something that came naturally to people. 

Unless you were Hermione Granger or Rose Peta-Lorrum. 

* * *

No one was particularly impressed with their Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. Professor Quirrell had a stutter, which made it difficult to take him seriously. He also reeked of garlic, something that only made sense to Rose. After all, vampires _detested_ garlic, so it was a good way to repel them, although Rose had always found holy symbols to be more effective. 

<Curious,> Reflectesalon told Rose part way through class. 

<What is it?>

<I have been trying for a few minutes now, but I have been unable to detect Professor Quirrell’s mind.>

<Didn’t you have the same problem with Professor Dumbledore when we first met him?>

<Correct.>

<Interesting. I’ll need to find out how they’re doing that.>

After Defence Against the Dark Arts, or DADA as some older students called it, was lunch, and after lunch was Herbology. 

None of the girls much cared for Herbology, although their teacher, Professor Sprout, was one of the best teachers they would encounter at Hogwarts. She engaged the class, believed in teaching by doing, but was careful to explain all the rules before diving into the interactive part of the lesson. Hermione admired her teaching style, and noted that she showed genuine interest in each and every student. 

Professor Sprout walked by every student to ensure that they understood what they were doing, and helped them along when they didn’t. 

The next day the Gryffindors had Charms and History of Magic. Sally-Anne found it interesting that Professor Flitwick, their Charms Professor, was a former dueling champion. It made sense to have someone that talented teaching them, although he was more than a little absentminded. 

Professor Flitwick was short, no more than four feet tall. He stood on stack of books to teach the class, although he fell off of it when he read Harry’s name. 

Sally-Anne didn’t understand why everyone was making such a big deal about him. He was only a boy. From what Sally-Anne had heard from Lavender and Parvati, Harry was some big hero, but he didn’t really act like it. 

After that minor hiccup, class went smoothly. Professor Flitwick was intelligent, and his antics actually helped Sally-Anne pay attention to him. 

While Hermione nearly lost respect for their professor a few times, the moment he brought the books that littered the classroom to life and had them clean themselves up, he had earned her respect. He knew what he was doing. 

This was in severe contrast to their History of Magic professor, Professor Binns. Rose would have thought that a ghost would be good at teaching history, or at least very knowledgable on the subject. He still might have been knowledgable, but Rose wouldn’t know, due to how difficult it was to pay attention to him. 

Professor Binns just drawled on and on, never making an attempt to engage the class. He spoke in a soft voice with little inflection. Half the class, including Sally-Anne, fell asleep within 20 minutes of listening to him. 

Rose could easily stay awake; Binns paid about as much attention to the class as the class did to him, so Rose just pulled out her sketchbook and started drawing to pass the time. 

* * *

Had Rose paid any attention to her professors during meals, then she probably would have noticed the Potions Master earlier. This not being the case, Potions class on Friday was the first time that Rose saw just how much the Potions Master resembled her best friend, Shadow. 

He wore a black cloak, black shoes, black trousers, and a look of disinterest mixed with contempt on his face. All he needed was a black mask and to be a few feet shorter, and Rose would have thought that Shadow was actually teaching them Potions. 

“ _There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class_ ,” Professor Snape began in a dark, monotone voice. “ _As such, I don’t expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion-making. However, for those select few… who possess the predisposition… I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death._ ” 

Professor Snape glared at everyone, but he seemed to especially despise Harry Potter. Out of the blue, he threw a volley of questions from their textbook at Harry. Rose and Hermione both knew the answers to each question, as each one had already read their textbook twice, but someone who didn’t necessarily enjoy learning wouldn’t have known the answers. 

Rose noticed that Hermione, who was sitting next to Rose, kept raising her hand whenever Professor Snape asked a question. She leaned over and whispered to the bushy-haired girl. 

“He’s singling out Harry, so I doubt he’ll call on you.” 

Hermione glanced over at her, and, unfortunately, so did Professor Snape. 

“Something to share with the class, Ms…?” 

“Peta-Lorrum, Sir!” Rose exclaimed, ever cheerful. “Rose Peta-Lorrum, and I was just commenting to Hermione, who was being studious and ignoring me, that I like your cloak and was wondering how you get it to billow like that all the time.” 

If Professor Snape was as similar to Shadow as Rose thought he was, then he should respond to something like that with skepticism. It probably didn’t help that a few of the students snickered. Rose looked around, looking confused. 

“Keep your comments to yourself, Peta-Lorrum,” Professor Snape snapped. “Five points from Gryffindor.” 

Professor Snape fired one last question at Harry, then took five more points from Gryffindor. 

Hermione idly wondered if all of Professor Snape’s punishments would be so arbitrary. As class went on, Hermione noticed that Professor Snape showed blatant favoritism towards Slytherin, the house with whom they had been paired for Potions, only showing attention to Gryffindor whenever anyone made a mistake. 

* * *

After class, Severus was approached by Peta-Lorrum. Severus grumbled, having already decided that he didn’t like the girl. He had little patience for class clowns, _especially_ Gryffindors. 

“Professor Snape?” 

“What is it, Peta-Lorrum?” he asked impatiently. 

“Two things: First, I wasn’t joking, I really do like your cloak.” 

“Flattery will get you nowhere with me, girl,” Severus snapped, giving the girl his trademark glare. “And the second?” 

“A few places in our textbook, the author explains how to create these complicated potions to save a person from poison, but as you mentioned in class, and the author elaborates in chapter seven, a bezoar will save a person from most of them. Why go through the trouble if one can just obtain a bezoar from the stomach of a goat? It would make sense if goats were endangered, but they’re not, are they?” 

When Minerva had told him that Peta-Lorrum had gone so far as to read one of Minerva’s own research papers in preparation for class, Severus hadn’t been sure what to make of it. Gryffindors were rarely studious, if ever, which probably meant that the girl was cheating somehow. Severus made a mental note to keep an eye on Peta-Lorrum. 

“Your textbook is only for beginners, Peta-Lorrum. It isn’t meant to be practical, it’s meant to instruct you on the basics of potion making.” 

“Oh,” Rose replied. “I guess that makes sense. Thank you, Professor!” 

“If that’s all, then you should run along,” Professor Snape said. Rose thought he didn’t sound as annoyed at her anymore, but Reflectesalon assured her that it was her imagination. 

“That’s all,” Rose said. “Sorry for disrupting your class earlier. Have a good day!” 

She waved to the Potions Master, and skipped out of the Dungeons. 

<Well?> she asked Reflectesalon on her way out. 

<He is suspicious of you.>

<Perfect.>

* * *

That night, Hermione sat up reading. She was determined to learn all about this strange new world of hers, so she began rereading her books. She checked out several more books from the library, although for some reason, the librarian had seemed against it. What sort of librarian didn’t want people checking out books? 

Now and then, Hermione would glance over at Rose, who was still awake. What was with that girl? She always had the answers in class, and simply walked through her day as if nothing mattered. Rose wouldn’t take anything seriously, and kept rambling on about her imaginary world. 

It had taken a while to piece it together, but Hermione had finally realized that Rose’s world _was_ in fact fake. In all the books Hermione had read, there was no mention of anything Rose talked about. Nothing remotely close to a “wand bracelet” or “prying eyes”, although the latter still confused Hermione, who had seen it first hand. It was probably some sort of trick if it wasn’t a spell. 

Hermione no longer cared. She had decided to read all night if she had to, desperate to stay ahead of the bizarre girl. Whatever happened in this strange world, she was still at school, and if there was one thing Hermione knew about school, it’s that if you study hard enough, you can get by. 

The task of late night reading was made increasingly difficult by Rose herself, who kept laughing to herself. 

“Rose, would you _please_ stop that?” hissed Hermione. “I can’t read with you constantly talking to yourself.” 

“I’m not talking to myself,” Rose replied. “I’m talking to my brother.” 

Hermione looked around, but, as she suspected, she saw no one. That meant that she had been right all along; the girl’s brother was imaginary. If her brother was imaginary, then that probably meant her entire made up world was imaginary too. 

“Hermione,” Rose whispered. “You should get some sleep.” 

“So should you,” Hermione replied without taking her eyes off of her book. 

“I’m hyperkinetic, so I don’t need as much sleep.” 

“That’s _not_ how it works,” Hermione huffed. “I’ve read about hyperkinesia, and it’s a serious problem. You can’t just decide not to sleep. You should see someone about it immediately.” 

“Okay, I tried,” Rose sighed. “I’ve got a _ring of greater sustenance_ , so I only need two hours of sleep to get the benefits of eight hours.” 

“That’s even _less_ believable.” 

“I figured you wouldn’t believe that, despite it being the truth. Technically, both of my claims were.” 

“Sure,” Hermione replied, still not looking up. 

“Anyway,” Rose said. “Final warning: Go to sleep.” 

“I’m _fine_ ,” snapped Hermione. 

Rose sighed. 

“Alright. Hard way it is.” 

Hermione looked up and saw Rose standing next to her. She jumped, startled by the girl’s sudden appearance. 

“ _Sleep!_ ” 

The instant the wand touched her, Hermione fell asleep. 

Rose pulled Hermione’s covers over her and put the other girl’s wand and book back in her bag. Satisfied, Rose appeared back at her own bed. She put her goggles in her basket, then pulled her cloak over her. Shortly after she hummed her Mum’s lullaby, Rose fell asleep. 

* * *

**Note:** Introducing Albus Dumbledore’s patented scheduling technique! Guaranteed to force your top students to require time turners to get to all of their classes on time! 

For those of you who don’t remember, Sally-Anne Perks was the girl that spoke with Harry during the Sorting, and was never heard from again. I have taken the liberty of elevating her to main character status. 


	4. It's a Puppy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we meet the Weasley Twins, Harry and Hermione each do something foolish, and, as always, Rose has a grand old time.

Hermione was beginning to hate her time at Hogwarts. It wasn’t the school or classes that were the problem, although Potions class was starting to worry her; instead, it was the students. 

Between most of the Slytherins and a few Ravenclaws shooting her dirty looks whenever she answered a question, and some of her own housemates that insisted on either accompanying her everywhere and chattering incessantly or playing pranks on her, she was starting to go mad. Only halfway into September, and Hermione felt like she was going to lose it. 

Today was one of those times where she had all of them mixed into one. First, Rose had insisted on talking to her the entire way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. As if that weren’t a bundle of irritating laughs, the Infamous Weasley Twins decided to make an attempt at improving her spirits. 

Now, Hermione wasn’t certain that it was the Weasley Twins, but they were laughing the hardest at the prank. 

The prank merely consisted of switching the hair color of Rose and Hermione. Rose’s unique hair color mixed with Hermione’s volume of hair resulted in quite a show. Other students were laughing, although those were mostly the Slytherins. 

Upon seeing that her hair color had changed, Rose hopped up on the table and crouched down right in front of the Twins. 

“Fix it!” Rose hissed. 

“Relax!” George, or maybe Fred said. 

“It’ll wear off soon!” Fred, or possibly George added. 

“It’s just–” 

“–a little harmless fun–” 

“–to get you two–” 

“–to lighten up a bit!” 

“Besides, you can’t–” 

“–prove it was us!” 

<It was them,> Reflectesalon told Rose. 

“You two–!” Percy shouted. 

“Settle down, Percy,” the Twins said simultaneously. 

Rose continued to glare at them, but backed up a few inches on the table. She shook her head, sending her hair shaking around with it. As it flew around her head, her hair returned to its normal crimson color. 

The Twins stared at her. 

“How’d you do that?” they asked together, grinning. 

Rose had noticed that they didn’t stop grinning. They were like Bowie like that, except with fewer teeth. 

Rose grinned, and sat up on the table. Holding up her hands and wiggling her fingers, she said, “Maaaaaagic!” 

Rose’s grin faded, and she opened her mouth, but Percy beat her to the punchline. 

“Now fix Granger’s hair!” ordered Percy. 

“We can’t,” the Twins said, turning to Percy. 

“When will it wear off?” asked Rose. 

“In about ten hours–” 

“–give or take a few hours.” 

“How much is a few?” asked Rose. 

_Serendipity_ had found her way into Rose’s hand while Percy had everyone’s attention. It was only Hermione that happened to glance over at just the right second to see Rose’s wand appear in her hand. 

_What?_ Hermione thought. _How did she do that?_

“One–” 

“–maybe two.” 

Rose grinned. She stood up on the table, then hopped off it, brandishing her wand as she did. 

“ _Daßulriata!_ ” 

Hermione’s hair returned to its normal color. Her face was flushed, and she had started trembling, because she didn’t like all the attention that having crimson hair had been getting her. It had not been a good few weeks for her, but what she saw certainly cheered her up a bit. 

In addition to fixing Hermione’s hair, Rose’s spell had given both of the Twins bright pink hair, which was done up in irregular pigtails all around their heads. Even the word “bright” didn’t quite describe it; it was neon, almost glowing. But the icing on the cake was the copious amounts of blush, eyeliner, and lipstick that now adorned the Twins’ faces. It made them look just like a pair of circus clowns ready for a performance (Which, when Hermione thought about it, fit them perfectly). Hermione glanced down and noticed that their robes were now multicolored. They were adorned with a mixture of bright pink, green, orange, and yellow, the collection of which made for robes that clashed with themselves. 

Everyone that was watching, which by now was most of the Great Hall, burst out laughing. Even Percy had to try hard to keep his face neutral. 

“There you go, Percy,” Rose said. “They’re just a couple of class clowns.” 

Percy pressed his lips together, forcing himself not to laugh. As a prefect, he shouldn’t be encouraging this behavior, even if his brothers had been the target of a school prank. 

The Twins turned to face one another, and they themselves burst out laughing. Still laughing, they turned to Rose. 

“Of course you know,” they both said, “this means war!” 

Rose grinned, and leaned closer to them. 

“Challenge accepted!” 

Rose sat back down next to Hermione. 

“Thanks,” Hermione said quietly. She and Percy might have been the only two students in the entire Great Hall _not_ laughing. 

“No problem,” Rose replied, grinning. 

_Maybe she’s not so bad_ , thought Hermione. 

“What was that spell you used?” 

“ _Seeming_ , triggered by the Illumian word for ‘hair’.” Rose chuckled. “A little ironic that they even _have_ a word for hair, considering Illumians are bald. Although, they _are_ Illumians; they were _literally_ born from language! And they’ve got letters that orbit their head! It’s _kethé_!” 

_Nope, there she goes again_ , Hermione thought, _talking about things that don’t exist. Still, how did she do that?_

* * *

Rose ran into her own problem that afternoon. 

“Up!” 

For whatever reason, people in the Rowling Plane used brooms to fly. It wasn’t the flying itself that was the problem; she could fake that with _stormrage_. Rose could even understand the whole “flying on brooms” thing. 

“Up!” 

It was the fact that they were expected to pick up the broom without touching it. For the other students, this wasn’t an issue. Harry Potter got this on his first try, Ronald Weasley his second, and Neville Longbottom’s broom hit him in the face. 

For Rose, however, brooms did not count as magic items. She wasn’t sure whose bright idea _that_ was, but it meant that she couldn’t get the broom into her hand without touching it. She could just _power surge_ _Serendipity_ again, but it didn’t seem worth it to Rose. Instead, she had to settle for not being immediately talented at something, which was frustrating, given the time and effort she’d put into it. 

“ _Up!_ ” 

After a few tries, she gave up and just picked up the stupid broom. She also made a mental note that giving herself the ability to cast _mage hand_ at will could be nifty. She also made a mental note to use the word “nifty” more often, as it was a fun word. 

Sighing, Rose mounted her broom as instructed. It wasn’t that difficult, although she wondered why they didn’t just fly with magic. They _must_ be able to fly with magic. Otherwise, what kind of magi _were_ these people? Rose was an Artificer and _she_ knew better than to use a broom to fly. A first-level Wizard could easily _grease_ the seat and then the rider would go flying. A _phoenix cloak_ was much better for it if they wanted to use items, or the variety of flight spells available if they didn’t care. Rose had picked _stormrage_ because it allowed her to shoot lightning from her eyes. 

“ _Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard,” said Madame Hooch. “Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle–three–two–_ ” 

Unfortunately, Neville got a bit too jumpy. He flew straight up before Madame Hooch blew her whistle and proceeded to fall off of his broom. Rose wondered why their instructor, didn’t just stop him from taking falling damage. Couldn’t she just cast _feather fall_? It would have saved her the trip to the Hospital Wing. Could she cast it? Was she just caught off guard? Why hadn’t she just readied an action? Did she not realize one could ready an action? 

Whatever the reason, it meant that Madame Hooch left a bunch of 11-year-old students unsupervised. 

Sally-Anne tried to shrink into the background when this happened. She didn’t want any attention, especially since the only attention she ever received from her peers was negative. Without an authority figure to protect her, she was both afraid that she’d be singled out. Potions class was bad enough with Professor Snape glaring at her and the other Gryffindors. Sally-Anne didn’t know what to do during Potions class, since Professor Snape _was_ the authority figure. How was she supposed to make it through class when the professor was literally waiting for her to fail? 

Sally-Anne noticed that Draco Malfoy, one of the Slytherins, picked something up off the ground. Sally-Anne wasn’t sure what it was, but it looked like a glass orb of some kind. 

“Looks like Longbottom dropped something,” Draco sneered. 

“Give it here, Malfoy!” Harry shouted. 

That was odd. Sally-Anne had always thought Harry was shy, since he didn’t talk much and kept his head down. Maybe he was just antisocial. 

“Make me, Potter!” Draco shot back. He mounted his broom and kicked off, taunting Harry with the bauble. 

“Harry, don’t!” Hermione shouted when Harry went for his own broom. “You heard what Madame Hooch said! You’ll get in trouble!” 

“Who asked you?!” Ronald shot back. 

_He’s well trained,_ Rose thought. _Harry’s even got his cohort fighting his verbal battles._

“I can’t just let him get away with that,” Harry said, mounting his broom. 

Harry kicked off into the sky, chasing after Draco. Harry shot after Draco, who lazily dodged aside. 

“You want this, Potter?” Draco said, holding up the orb. “Fetch!” 

Draco hurled it towards the castle, and Harry raced off after it. Just before Harry ran into the castle, he snatched the trinket out of midair. He grinned, tossing the object in the air and catching it. 

After he got to the ground, the Gryffindors, sans Hermione (Who was shocked that students would so blatantly break the rules), Sally-Anne (Who was terrified by the entire ordeal), and Rose (Who didn’t care) cheered. 

Right on cue, Professor McGonagall stormed out of the castle and demanded that Harry follow her back inside. After they disappeared from sight, Draco and the two Orcs that followed him around burst out laughing. The other Slytherins soon joined them. 

Rose ignored them when she noticed how upset Sally-Anne looked. Rose hopped off of her broom, upon which she had been sitting while drawing during the spectacle. No longer supported by Rose, the cleaning implement fell to the ground as the crimson-haired girl walked over to her dirty-blonde roommate. 

“Sally-Anne, are you alright?” asked Rose, tilting her head to the side, as she often did when asking questions. 

“Harry almost _died_ catching Neville’s… whatever it was called,” Sally-Anne whispered. “How is that funny?” 

“It’s not,” whispered Hermione from behind the girls. 

“Then why are they all laughing?” asked Sally-Anne. She looked like she was on the brink of crying. 

“Because they’re horrible people,” Rose replied. “There was a student at my old school just like Draco. Walked around bragging about how wealthy his family was. Sort of like how Draco always manages to mention his father or his money. Remember the first thing he said out here? ‘My father _already_ taught me how to fly, but our brooms are _so_ much better than _this_ one.’” 

Sally-Anne smiled at Rose’s impression of Draco’s voice. 

“Are you mocking me?!” Draco demanded, having heard Rose’s imitation of him. 

“Only because you put too much grease in your hair,” Rose replied. 

Sally-Anne and Hermione began to back away from her, not wanting to get involved anymore than they already were. 

“I dare you to say that to my face!” Draco shouted walking right up to Rose. 

“So long as I don’t have to touch it,” Rose replied. She tilted her head to one side. “You’ll want to take about two steps back.” 

“Why’s that?” Draco sneered. “Afraid?” 

“No, but Madame Hooch is gonna be here in a few rounds, and you’ll get in trouble if it looks like you’re trying to pick a fight.” 

Draco backed up just in time to see Madame Hooch walking quickly back into the yard. 

“Professor McGonagall has already informed me that Mr. Potter is not going to be joining us for the rest of the lesson,” she said. “The rest of you, let’s try that again.” 

As they continued their flying lessons, Hermione wondered how Rose had known when Madame Hooch would be returning. 

* * *

“I can’t believe it!” Hermione ranted over breakfast the next morning. “Did you hear that they made Harry the Seeker of Gryffindor’s Quidditch team?” 

That caught Rose off guard. She wasn’t sure what Quidditch was, but it didn’t _sound_ like a punishment. Ronald Weasley, Harry’s cohort-in-training, even sounded excited about it, judging by the way he had been talking nonstop about it. 

“Can you believe it?!” squealed Lavender excitedly. “And he’s only a first year!” 

“That’s _not_ what I meant!” huffed Hermione. 

“I’m sitting right here,” said Harry quietly from a few seats down the table. 

“Relax, Hermione!” said Parvati. 

“What’s a Quidditch?” asked Rose. 

Most of the Gryffindors that heard her turned to stare at her. 

“How do you not know what Quidditch is?” Ronald asked her. 

“She’s Muggle-born,” muttered Hermione. 

“Oh,” Ronald replied. “Sorry.” 

“ _Another_ mudblood,” came the voice of Draco Malfoy. “You shouldn’t hang out with so many of them, Potter. That _can’t_ be good for you.” 

“Shut up, Malfoy!” Ronald barked. 

“No, seriously, what’s a Quidditch?” Rose asked again. 

“Getting the Weasley to fight your battles for you, eh, Potter?” Draco sneered, ignoring Rose. Maybe his face was just stuck like that. 

“Duh,” said Rose. “That’s what cohorts _do_. They either fight so the PCs don’t have to, or they carry the PC’s stuff.” 

“I don’t need anyone to fight my battles for me!” shouted Harry, also ignoring Rose. 

“Prove it!” Draco shot back. “Midnight in the trophy room.” 

“I’ll be there!” Harry responded. 

“You know what? I’ll just go look up Quidditch in the library,” Rose said, getting up from her place and walking off. “Also, you’re a Wizard, so at the very least, you’re going to need a meat shield.” 

* * *

That night, Rose noticed that Hermione was doing homework in the Common Room way later than she should have been. Rose also noted that the other Gryffindor’s face looked pale, and her eyes were lined with dark circles. 

<She’s trying to stop Harry and Ronald from leaving,> Reflectesalon informed Rose. 

“Trying to stop them?” Rose asked. 

“Hoping to,” replied Hermione. “They’re going to go out, get in trouble, then Gryffindor will lose points! All to settle some score with Malfoy!” 

“How else are exciting things going to happen?” Rose asked. 

“I don’t _want_ exciting things to happen,” Hermione replied. “I don’t want to get in trouble, I just want to learn.” 

“Fair enough,” Rose said. “Still, aren’t you the least bit curious about what’s going to happen?” 

“No,” Hermione said. “They’re going to get caught, then they’ll get into trouble. They’ll lose points or get expelled. Hopefully they’ll just get expelled so the rest of us don’t have to suffer.” 

“Who cares?” Rose asked. “House points don’t mean anything. Look at the big picture. Who cares if we don’t win this year? The winners don’t get extra credit, they just get bragging rights for a while. Nothing permanent.” 

Hermione blinked a few times. That was strangely coherent for the odd girl. When Hermione thought about it, Rose had a good point. Still, something felt wrong about simply letting the boys keep getting into trouble. Hermione felt obligated to stop them. 

“Whatever you say, Rose,” Hermione replied offhandedly. 

“I tried,” Rose said, walking up the stairs to their room. “Good night, Hermione.” 

“Night, Rose.” 

A minute later, an invisible Rose _blinked_ through the portrait of the Fat Lady. If there was something important happening, then Rose wanted to be in on it. Who knew what kind of exciting events would transpire? There might even be XP! Rose _loved_ XP! 

* * *

In hindsight, Hermione should have just gone to one of the prefects. Percy seemed pretty upstanding, and Alex had been really nice, so either of them probably could’ve handled this. They certainly would’ve handled it better than Hermione had. 

Having _not_ done the sensible thing and stayed out of it, Hermione now found herself locked out of Gryffindor Tower with Harry, Ron, and Neville, who had forgotten the password. Again, apparently. 

“We should wait here!” Hermione hissed. “I’m sure one of the prefects will be here soon to let us back in!” 

“Alex finishes her rounds in half an hour, I think,” Neville said. “I’m not actually sure what time it is, but I think she gets back soon.” 

“Harry’s not going to back down from a fight, will you Harry?” Ron said, ignoring Neville. 

Hermione was _really_ starting to detest that boy. How was it that Percy was the only sensible one in his entire family? Never mind the legendary troublemakers that were the Weasley Twins, but now Ronald was simply _asking_ for trouble. 

After a few minutes, they arrived at the Trophy Room. The entire time, Hermione had tried to convince the boys to just head back to the common room, but Ron wasn’t having any of it. He brushed off her comments the whole way there. 

“I don’t see Malfoy anywhere,” Harry said, looking around the Trophy Room. 

“Probably got too scared,” Ron said triumphantly. 

“Or this was all a trick to get you in trouble!” Hermione hissed. “We have to go! Filch could be here any minute!” 

* * *

Argus Filch was doing another round of the castle, looking for any students who might be out after curfew. He hadn’t been lucky enough to catch any of the little rats yet, but he knew his time would come. It was just a few weeks into the term, and the first-years _always_ sneaked out of their rooms. When they did, he would be waiting. 

He rounded the next corner on the third floor and spotted something. He moved towards it and saw what looked to be a student. But looking closer, he realized that it wasn’t; it was the Girl in Red. 

Argus had spotted her twice already. The first time she had been just outside the library, and the other time he had found her wandering the halls on the second floor. The only reason that he hadn’t been able to catch her was because she could vanish. It had been that that tipped off Argus to the real truth: It wasn’t a student, but instead an illusion. 

Not being able to use magic, Argus wasn’t actually sure how to create illusions, or even if it were possible, but if it were, it was exactly the sort of thing those wretched Weasley Twins would do. 

Argus didn’t like the students, but those two boys had given him trouble from Day One. Argus was certain that it was them behind her. They had made her a girl to try to throw Argus off their trail, but he was on to them. 

Argus held up his lantern, and the cloaked figure turned to face him. Was she wearing goggles? He had never gotten a good look at her face before. He had noticed her wearing a dress, so he was fairly certain that she was supposed to be female. 

“You there!” 

“Shh!” several of the portraits shouted. 

“Put that light out!” added one. 

Argus ignored them and started walking towards the girl. Where ever they were, those two miscreants had to be close so that they could watch. Perhaps, if Argus were lucky, he’d be able to spot them this time! 

Or so he thought. To Argus’ misfortune, the Girl in Red vanished once again. Cursing under his breath, Argus ran up to the spot where she had been standing a moment ago. He looked around, trying to find a hiding place, but if they had been there, then the Twins had already run off. 

“Did you see anyone?” he asked one of the portraits. 

“No, _I_ was sleeping!” the man in the portrait replied. “And I’d like to get back to it!” 

Argus lowered his lantern, and continued with his rounds. He decided to ignore the whole situation for the moment. Argus took one last look around before continuing on towards the Trophy Room. 

* * *

“Shh!” Hermione hissed. “I thought I heard something!” 

They all paused to listen for a moment. Sure enough, the boys heard it too. It was the sound of footsteps, accompanied by someone muttering under their breath. They all knew that voice. 

“It’s Filch!” whispered Neville. “We’ve got to get out of here!” 

“Right!” whispered Ron a little loudly, heading for the door. 

The four of them bolted out of the Trophy Room. 

As he ran, Harry looked back over his shoulder, and, to his dismay, he spotted the reflection of light off of a pair of eyes. 

“It’s Mrs. Norris!” he hissed. “Filch’s cat! She’s following us!” 

“Quick, this way!” 

The four of them turned to see the Rose motioning for them to follow her. 

“Rose?” Hermione asked. “I thought you went to bed.” 

“Quickly!” 

Hoping that she knew what she was doing, they ran down the corridor after her. The crimson-haired girl led them down the corridor, making turns seemingly at random, until finally she pulled them into a room, and the four of them stopped for breath. 

“I don’t hear Mrs. Norris anymore,” Harry whispered. “I think we’re safe. Thanks Rose.” 

“No problem!” 

Hermione thought for a moment, trying to get her bearings. Horror crossed her face when she realized where they were. 

“We’re in the third floor corridor, aren’t we?” she asked. “On the right hand side.” 

It was at that point that the five of them heard a low growling coming from behind them. Turning around, the Gryffindors saw a large, three-headed dog climbing to its feet. 

“Is that–” Harry began to ask. 

“IT’S A PUPPY!” exclaimed Rose, throwing her arms up in excitement. 

The other four first-years screamed and bolted from the room. 

Rose turned her attention away from the “puppy” to see the rest of her party fleeing. 

“But… but I wanna pet it!” 

She turned back to the dog, which was snarling at her. 

A while back, Rose had decided that it would be fun to be able to understand any living creature. After doing some research (otherwise known as bugging Sk’lar until he told her), she found the spell _speak with anything_ , which allowed her to do exactly that, and then some. Rose could speak with and understand anything except a dead body, which included the dog before her. 

“ _Oh look_ ,” the middle head snarled. “ _A snack._ ” 

“ _Yum_ ,” the left head agreed. 

“ _Delicious_ ,” the right head concurred. 

“Why are you here?” Rose asked. 

There were several aspects of this scene that intrigued her. There was a trapdoor under the dog, which probably meant it was protecting something, but what was so important that someone had brought a large, hostile dog into a school? 

The large dog ignored her as it continued to advance on the girl. 

“Who brought you here?” 

Still, nothing. 

“Last chance,” Rose said, crouching down. “I warn you, this isn’t going to be fun.” 

Still, no response from the dog. 

“Alright, then,” Rose said, grinning. “Have it your way.” 

* * *

Fluffy had been ordered to stay in that room. The Master had commanded it, and so Fluffy knew to obey him. It was his responsibility to keep people out of the room. He didn’t know why, but it didn’t matter to him. All three of his heads agreed that they should listen to the Master. 

Fluffy was now faced with a small Human child. Most children were afraid of Fluffy due to his overwhelming size, but this little one didn’t smell of fear. Instead, she smelled confident, like a pack leader or the Fuzzy Beard Man that had accompanied the Master when the Master told Fluffy to stay in the room. She smelled differently than other people, like she didn’t belong there. All three of Fluffy’s heads agreed that there was something wrong with this girl. 

As Fluffy advanced on her, determined to scare her away, a small stick appeared in her hand. She wasn’t honestly thinking of throwing that, was she? 

SHINK! 

The girl didn’t throw it, but instead it made a loud noise and turned into an even larger stick. Then she lept at Fluffy. 

The last thing that Fluffy remembered was the girl spinning around in a circle, and a sharp pain in both of his legs. Then everything went black. 

* * *

Rose folded up her weapon and made a quick Heal Check on the dog to verify that it was still alive. She required information from the dog, a requisite of which was it being alive. Now that it was unconscious, it couldn’t make the will save against her to resist having its mind read, which was Rose’s intention all along. Also, she really liked getting to use her primary weapon. 

She crouched down, producing _Serendipity_ and _power surging_ her. Using the spell _probe thoughts_ , Rose began to pry the dog’s mind for information. 

<What’s your name?>

<Fluffy,> the dog replied. 

<Why are you here?>

<The Master demands it.>

<Who is the Master?>

She got an image of a large, bearded man leading the dog to this room and telling it to stay. She recognized the man as Hagrid, the Grounds Keeper. Accompanying him was Professor Dumbledore, the Headmaster. 

<What’s through that trapdoor under you?>

<I don’t know.>

“Thank you, Fluffy,” she whispered, breaking off the spell. 

Rose turned to leave. It took at least five minutes to get back to Gryffindor Tower by foot, and it had been about a minute since the other Gryffindors left. She decided that she should probably catch up with them to avoid suspicion. 

Before she left, Rose used another charge from _Serendipity_ to cast _heal_ on Fluffy. The dog got up and began barking at Rose. 

_Defiant to the end, I guess_ , thought Rose as she ran from the room and closed the door. 

“ _I wish I knew where Hermione Granger was_ ,” Rose whispered in Dwarven, expending yet another charge from _Serendipity_ for _discern location_. Rose immediately got a clear idea of where in the castle the other Gryffindors were. Rose grinned and expended the fourth charge from _Serendipity_. 

* * *

Hermione was trying really hard not to think about the ten-foot tall, three-headed dog in the castle. Really, really hard. She tried to keep her mind focused on finding her way back to Gryffindor Tower as fast as she could, and ignore the fact that there was a creature that could devour them all in seconds in the same building as her bed. 

“Follow me!” 

Hermione almost tripped over her own feet when Rose just _appeared_ in front of them. The crimson-haired girl just popped out of one of the walls! 

_Yeah, Rose, cos following you worked_ so _well last time_ , thought Hermione. 

Surprisingly, it _did_ work out well this time. Rose led them on what might have been the most direct path to Gryffindor Tower. Hermione heard the girl whispering now and then. Either Rose was asking for directions, or Hermione was so tired that she was beginning to hallucinate. It really could’ve gone either way at that point. Hermione hadn’t been sleeping well, and this incident with the dog was only going to make things worse. How was she supposed to sleep knowing that thing was in the castle? 

As they approached the portrait of the Fat Lady, Rose whispered the password. The portrait swung open, and the five of them quickly climbed through. 

They all stopped to catch their breath in the common room. Hermione was not looking forward to climbing seven flights of stairs just to get back to her bed. Instead, she found herself briefly contemplating sleeping on one of the couches in the common room. They looked so comfortable, and weren’t up seven flights of stairs. 

“What,” Ron panted. “Was _that_ thing?!” 

“Fluffy!” Rose exclaimed. 

Unlike everyone else, Rose wasn’t the least bit tired. 

“What?!” Harry panted. 

“It’s name!” Rose said, grinning. “It said its name was Fluffy!” 

“Well I’m glad you thought that that was so amusing!” Hermione said sarcastically. 

“Why is that thing even here?!” asked Ron. 

“Didn’t you see what it was standing on?” asked Hermione. 

“You were looking at its feet?!” 

“There was a trapdoor,” Rose said. 

“Why would it be on a trapdoor?” Harry asked. 

“That’s a good question, Harry,” Rose said. “Exactly the line of thinking a PC should be using. Well done.” 

“Rose!” shouted Hermione. “Now’s _not_ the time for your–!” 

“Hermione, please be quiet,” Harry urged. “You’ll wake everyone else up.” 

“ _We could all have been killed_ ,” Hermione hissed. “ _Or worse, expelled. Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to bed._ ” 

She stormed off to the girls’ rooms, no longer caring that there were seven flights of stairs between her and her bed. She just wanted to be in a place without other people in it. 

“ _She needs to get her priorities straight_ ,” Ron muttered. 

“Not really,” Rose said, heading towards the girls’ rooms. “Dying’s easy to fix. It’s a lot harder to convince them to reinstate us after we’ve been expelled.” 

The three boys stared at Rose as she disappeared into the girls’ dorms. 


	5. Exploration of Space

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hermione and Sally-Anne have bad days, Harry and Ron have good days, and Rose causes trouble for the authorities.

**Disclaimer** If you explore all of Hogwarts, you will discover that it is owned by J.K. Rowling. 

* * *

Hermione woke up the next morning, checked her watch to see what time it was, then remembered that her watch didn’t work in Hogwarts. 

Alex had explained to Hermione that the magical nature of Hogwarts interfered with all electronics, preventing them from functioning within the castle. Hermione had attempted to look this up in the library, but found that there was virtually no indexing system whatsoever. After an hour of picking through books looking for an answer, Hermione had given up trying. 

Hermione climbed out of her four-poster bed, and saw that Lavender was still asleep. Quickly grabbing her clothes and toiletries, Hermione ran to the bathroom before her roommate could monopolize it for the next hour. 

After taking almost as long herself, due entirely to her hair, Hermione put her things back in her trunk. 

“Good morning, Hermione,” came a small, timid voice. 

“Morning, Sally-Anne,” Hermione replied. 

Hermione liked Sally-Anne. She was the only other Muggle-born among her four roommates, despite Rose’s claims to not have magic parents, so Hermione and Sally-Anne understood one another better. Unfortunately, Sally-Anne was too shy to get a good conversation out of, so they didn’t talk as much as Hermione would’ve liked. 

Parvati was nice enough, but she would often go on about something from the Magical world, and forget to explain it to Hermione. Hermione had read enough that she kept up with most of it, but it was as if there were a wall between them, shutting Hermione out from these experiences that the Magical students shared. What made it worse was Lavender, who would start on about hair, boys, or clothes, sucking Parvati into a conversation in which Hermione had no interest. 

This left Rose, who was clever, as was displayed by her irritating talents in all of their classes. Hermione had always been the clever one in class, so seeing someone else so easily match her was a little off-putting. It would’ve been easier to handle, except that Rose never made any sense. 

Having no one with whom she could relate, Hermione had made it a habit to keep to herself. Thus, that morning she ate breakfast alone, making polite conversation when someone else started one, and keeping to herself. Rose didn’t show up for breakfast, nor had Hermione seen her in their room. 

“Like it matters,” Hermione muttered to herself. 

After breakfast, Hermione grabbed a notebook and pencil and headed into the castle. Before she got too far, Hermione ran into Alex and another girl. 

Alex’s friend had bleach blond hair, was presumably a fifth-year like Alex, and had a Slytherin crest pinned to her shirt near her waist. Beneath the Slytherin crest was a gold “P”. 

_Must be a Slytherin prefect,_ Hermione thought. 

“Good morning, Hermione,” Alex said. “Whatcha up to?” 

“We don’t have time to talk Nertlyn,” the other girl said. “Prefect’s meeting, remember?” 

“It can wait, Gladys,” Alex said. 

“I want to make a map of the castle,” Hermione replied. “I keep getting lost, but none of the professors seem to want to help.” 

“You can’t map Hogwarts,” the other girl scoffed. 

Alex shot her friend a glare, then looked back to Hermione. 

“That won’t work,” Alex said kindly. “The castle changes randomly. A map wouldn’t do you any good for very long.” 

“Figures,” Hermione muttered. 

“I’m really sorry,” Alex said apologetically. 

“It’s alright,” Hermione said. “Thanks anyway.” 

“You’re welcome,” Alex replied. 

“Just another reason why Muggle-borns shouldn’t be allowed here,” muttered Alex’s friend. 

“Oi!” Alex shouted, turning on the girl. “That was uncalled for, _especially_ to a kid!” 

Hermione hugged her notebook to her chest and ran off, keeping her head down. She already knew she didn’t belong at Hogwarts, but it hurt to have someone else point it out like that. 

“Hermione!” Alex called after her, but didn’t run after her charge. She did notice that an orange orb was floating above them, but before Alex could get a closer look at it, it flew away. 

* * *

Having a similarly bad morning was Sally-Anne, whose misfortune also originated from Slytherin. 

After breakfast, Sally-Anne went to the library to see if there were any good fiction books to read. As her roommate had discovered, there was no easy way to navigate the library, and after receiving a glare from Madame Pince, Sally-Anne quickly left. 

Not looking where she was going, Sally-Anne ran straight into a familiar boy with greasy blond hair. 

“Watch where you’re going, Mudblood!” Draco Malfoy spat. 

Sally-Anne wasn’t certain what “Mudblood” meant, but it couldn’t have been a nice word. She had heard Malfoy use it before, and based on the context, it was an insult for a Muggle-born. 

Sally-Anne didn’t know how, but all of Hogwarts knew that she was Muggle-born. She wasn’t sure if it was something about the way she acted, or how she dressed, but everyone knew, and it was starting to bother her. 

“I’m–I’m sorry,” Sally-Anne stammered in a soft voice. “I didn’t mean to.” 

Malfoy looked at her as if she were something foul in which he had just stepped. 

Sally-Anne averted her eyes, looking down at her shoes instead of the glare of the Slytherin and his two henchmen. It was bad enough that staff members like Professor Snape and Madame Pince gave her death glares, but she was quickly finding that she couldn’t escape the ridicule she was receiving. If she was in class, then she was mocked by some of the professors, and out of class she was harassed by the students. 

Sally-Anne had tried talking to Alex about it, but could never find the Prefect when she needed her. No one was there to keep Sally-Anne safe, and no one was going to come for her. 

“You’re not worth my time,” the boy said, shoving her to the ground as he walked past. 

Sally-Anne banged her head on the stone wall, so she wasn’t sure if what she saw next was the result of a concussion, or had actually happened. 

What she thought she saw was an orange ball with a black slit on it soar through the air above her head. The orb stopped for a moment, turning so that the slit was facing her, then flew off down the corridor. 

Sally-Anne staggered as she slowly picked herself up off the ground, then gave up and collapsed. She held her legs to her chest. 

“I want to go home,” she whispered as another orb flew past her. “I just want to go home.” 

* * *

On the opposite end of the Hogwarts Enjoyment Scale were Harry and Ron, who were constantly enjoying their time at Hogwarts. During breakfast, the boys noticed that someone had broken into Gringotts, the Wizarding Bank in Diagon Alley. Harry recognized the targeted vault as one that he had visited while picking up school supplies. His escort, Hagrid, had picked up something for Professor Dumbledore from the vault. 

“It’s connected to the dog, I’m telling you,” Harry said. 

“No one can steal from Gringotts,” Ron scoffed. “My brother Bill works for them, and he says that no one’s ever done it.” 

“Maybe Hagrid picked up whatever it was, and gave it to Dumbledore. Then Dumbledore put the dog there to protect it.” 

“Maybe,” Ron said. 

“Well, what if–” 

Harry was startled by an orange orb whizzing by him, turning towards him for a moment as it passed. 

“What are those things?” he asked Ron. 

“I dunno,” Ron replied, watching the orb fly away. “Maybe it’s just something some older students made. Stuff like that happens all the time in Hogwarts.” 

“Really?” 

“Sure. I’m sure you’ll get used to it after a while.” 

Harry nodded. His new world was amazing, and he couldn’t wait to see more of it. Adventure was almost literally around every corner, and with Ron by his side, he felt invincible. 

Harry noticed on their way back to the Common Room that one of the girls seemed upset. She quickly ran away before Harry could ask, but he was almost certain it was the Perks girl he had met during Sorting. 

“Was that Sally-Anne?” he asked Ron. 

“Huh?” 

“Never mind,” Harry said. 

* * *

The caretaker of Hogwarts was less impressed by the orange orbs flying around the school. Instead, Argus Filch was irritated by them. 

Argus cursed under his breath when another orange sphere flew past him. His instincts told him that the Weasley Twins were behind this. This kind of random disruption had their fingerprints all over it. Who else but those two delinquents would send those accursed orange orbs flying around his school? 

“When I get my hands on those two…” 

Argus almost couldn’t believe how much worse those two delinquents were becoming that year. First, they start trying to drive him mad with an illusory girl, then they send baubles flying around his school. They were probably meant as a distraction, which meant that those boys had something worse in store. 

Keeping his guard up, Argus continued his patrol of the castle, hoping that he would run into the boys. If he could finally catch them in the act, he could prove once and for all that they were up to something. 

* * *

Minerva McGonagall was taking what would have been an otherwise pleasant morning stroll through the castle. Saturday mornings were a nice time to relax, as many of the students were often too busy with homework or relaxing themselves to bother her. 

That particular morning, her tranquil walk was disrupted by a familiar orange eye flying past her head. Minerva watched as a small group of students chased after it, then took a deep breath. 

“I should probably go make sure the girl isn’t getting into trouble.” 

The floating eyes Peta-Lorrum had, whatever they were called, were somewhat of a mystery to Minerva. They didn’t quite fit her House-elf theory, as conjuring an object into existence was beyond House-elf magic. Minerva’s theory behind them was that there were a finite number of them, and they were simply charmed. The more she thought about it, she realized that that couldn’t be the case, as she had seen one disappear in the girl’s hand. Maybe it was charmed to vanish shortly after appearing in the girl’s hand. 

Another eye flew past her with Fred and George Weasley hot on its trail. 

Minerva had two choices before her: she could run after the Twins and have to deal with the resulting headache on her day off, or continue to ignore the eyes and hope the source of them wasn’t causing problems. 

“I should,” the Transfiguration Professor muttered, “but I don’t _need_ to.” 

* * *

After scanning the rest of the floors, the orbs flew all the way up to the seventh floor, where they found their brothers and sisters circling their crimson-haired mistress. 

Rose sat near a large tapestry depicting what Rose believed to be trolls dancing, possibly while they were drunk. Either explanation made perfect sense to her. She had seen many times how entertaining the Dwarves on Rontus became when they had too much to drink. Being the responsible adult he was, Mr. Grund, her Dwarven crafting mentor, had told her never to get drunk; being the Dwarf he was, Mr. Grund had told her this _while_ he was drunk. 

Earlier that morning, Rose had sent several dozen _prying eyes_ across the castle, looking for secret passageways, hidden doors, or anything else Rose would need to know about her new home. Her goal was to find somewhere to craft in peace, which meant a secluded room where a dedicated wright would be able to work uninterrupted. Rose also needed somewhere hidden, eliminating the possibility of someone interrupting said dedicated wright. 

Before anyone had awoken, Rose fired off several rounds of the spell, then got to work exploring the seventh floor. With Reflectesalon guiding her with his new ability to see secret doors, the pair had found a strange room which turned out to be exactly what Rose needed. After a few hours starting on a dedicated wright, Reflectesalon had reminded Rose that there were still _prying eyes_ floating around the school, and suggested that Rose tend to them before too long. 

Rose knew that the eyes couldn’t see anything well hidden, such as the room she had recently found, but they were good for brute-force searching, whereas the spell _detect secret doors_ wasn’t. Thus, Rose had quickly enchanted Reflectesalon to have a permanent _detect secret doors_ ability, and set off looking around the castle for any hidden rooms she could use. 

Most of Rose’s power came from the Persist Spell feat, which allowed her to extend the duration of a spell to 24 hours. With several daily-use spell items, Rose persisted spells on herself every morning. Unfortunately, due to a limitation in the Persist Spell feat, Rose couldn’t persist _detect secret doors_ , and besides which, she’d need to concentrate on it, which was difficult while searching. 

The entire purpose of this was that Rose was burning too much of her now finite resources every morning with the persistent spells. She knew there were more efficient ways to go about it, but what she ended up with was _power surging_ _Serendipity_ twice every morning, plus another _power surge_ on her aptly named _Staff of Power Surge_. The latter’s purpose was to hold several high-level spells that would be persisted every morning. This totaled up to 135 XP every single morning. 

Normally, given the sheer amount of role-playing XP Rose earned, this wasn’t that much of a problem. However, if they went through something she knew as a time skip, she’d have a problem. A time skip happened when there was little to do, so time seemed to fly by without any major events occurring. No events meant no role-playing XP. 

Thus, Rose had sent out the eyes and went with Reflectesalon to scout out a place where she could craft in peace. After a few hours of searching, Rose had found somewhere perfect. After deciphering the clue the surrounding stones had given her regarding how to access the secret room, Rose had verified that it would work, started the wright, then left to collect the eyes. 

As Rose received information from each of the eyes, she saw that they had received quite a bit of attention from the other students. It had occurred to Rose that people would eventually notice the eyes, but she was surprised to see just how much attention the eyes had drawn. As she replayed the information from each of the eyes, she would frequently see through the eyes bands of students following them. Most of the students had given up, save two persistent Gryffindors. 

“So it’s you–” 

“–who created those things!” 

One of the eyes had been followed by Fred and George through most of the fifth floor, and it had led them straight to her. This wasn’t that much of a problem, since the door to her new favorite room was hidden to those who weren’t looking for it, and to most that _were_ looking for it. After all, part of the motivation behind finding a hidden room was that other people not know about it. 

Rose grinned back at them. 

“Salutations, boys!” 

“What are they?” one of the boys asked. 

“A spell called _prying eyes_ ,” Rose said, smiling. She liked the Weasley Twins. Their antics reminded her of her friend Bowie back home. “I casted it on each floor to help me explore the castle.” Another eye floated into her hand. “Right now, I’m replaying the information, and recording anything interesting they found.” 

They boys grinned. 

“Nice,” they said together. 

“So you’re trying to make a map?” one of them asked. Rose hadn’t yet figured out how to distinguish them, but she was working on it. 

<’That’s not possible’,> Reflectesalon relayed to Rose. <’No one can make a map of the castle by hand. Only the Marauder’s Map works completely, and it’s got to use magic to stay up to date.’>

“Nope!” Rose replied. “Just recording information. We can compare notes sometime if you’d like.” 

Still grinning, Fred and George shook their heads. 

“Our secrets–” 

“–are trade secrets.” 

“Alright,” Rose said, the orb in her hand vanishing. Another one quickly took its place. “If you promise not to tell anyone that I made these, then I promise not to tell anyone about your super secret map!” 

“We don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“We don’t have a map–” 

“–and we don’t see anything going on here.” 

“ _Kethé!_ ” Rose exclaimed. “I’m glad we understand each other, boys.” 

As the Twins left, Rose idly wondered if they rehearsed speaking in unison like that, then returned to collecting information from the eyes. 

What Rose saw through the eyes was Hermione running off after possibly being insulted by an older girl, and Sally-Anne being shoved to the ground by Draco. Without audio, Rose didn’t know what they were saying, but she made notes to keep a closer eye on the Slytherin students. 

* * *

Hermione liked to think that she usually made good decisions. She liked to think that her parents had raised her well, and in spite of her being only 12, with a few notable exceptions, she liked to think that she always made good choices. One such exception was following Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley last Friday night. _That_ was a bad decision. 

Today was another one of those decisions. It wasn’t just a bad decision; it was an _exceedingly horrible_ decision. It was Saturday, so Hermione should have been catching up on the sleep she had been losing. Instead, she had made the decision to explore the castle on her own. As Alex had told her a week ago, mapping out the castle wasn’t possible, so instead, Hermione was attempting to familiarize herself with its layout. That had to be possible, since Rose always seemed to know exactly where she was going, so Hermione was determined to do the same. 

So off Hermione went, exploring the castle. She left the Great Hall after breakfast, notebook and pencil in hand (She had already had enough with quills. What was this, the Dark Ages?) and started with the lower floors. Unfortunately, this included the Dungeons. Hermione should have realized that this was a bad idea, but she was too tired to think straight. As a result, Hermione now found herself in Slytherin territory. 

Slytherin territory. She made it sound like the houses were gangs. Like Gryffindor controlled the upper floors, and Slytherin the lower floors. Competitive was one thing, but the Slytherins with whom she was now faced looked downright malicious. If Hermione was correct, then there were 70 Slytherin students, three of whom were sneering at her, wands drawn. She was good at maths, so she knew that, assuming that any group of Slytherins was just as likely to find her here, the odds of only Malfoy and his two goons finding her were about one in one sextillion. Just her luck. 

“Look what we have here, boys,” Malfoy said coolly. “Little Miss Know-it-all is trying to spy on us.” 

Hermione had found her way to a dead end, but when she turned around, she had found Draco Malfoy and his minions, although Hermione couldn’t remember their names. 

Hermione clutched her notebook to her chest as she slowly lost the last few feet of space between her and the dead end. She had considered dropping her books and going for her wand, but by the time she drew it, a curse or hex would surely hit her. Malfoy must have learned magic already from his parents, despite it being illegal for an underage wizard to use magic outside of school. 

“I wasn’t trying to spy on you,” Hermione said. She kept wishing that someone would come around the corner, but no one came. She was alone. There were 69 other Gryffindor students, 12 prefects from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, and about 14 staff members. That was 95 people that could come save her, but not one of them showed up. “Honest, I–” 

“Why else would you be down here, Mudblood?” Malfoy sneered. Crabbe and Goyle smirked along with their leader as the three boys kept moving towards her. 

“I was just trying to explore–” 

“See?” Malfoy scoffed. “She _is_ spying on us!” 

“Please, just leave me alone,” Hermione said. She was fighting back tears. 

“Aww, it looks like the little mudblood’s about to cry,” Malfoy said. His goons snickered again at their boss’s joke. 

Despite how hard she was trying, Hermione’s eyes teared up. She was exhausted and scared. In her eagerness to learn about her new world, she had overdone it, and now she was paying the price. God, or Merlin, or to whomever these people wanted to pray only knew what kinds of hexes Malfoy knew. Probably nothing lethal, but it was only going to serve to make her time here worse than it already was. All Hermione wanted to do was to go home. 

“Go crying home to mummy and daddy, Mudblood,” Malfoy said, raising his wand as he prepared to cast a spell, but stopped when they all heard the echoes of humming from down the corridor. 

His cronies looked around with dumbfounded looks on their faces, until Malfoy nodded to one of them. The large boy stuck his head around the corner. 

“It’s a girl, Boss. She’s on her own.” 

Distracted by the humming, it didn’t occur to Hermione to draw her wand while _Malfoy_ was distracted. Hermione recognized the melody, but she couldn’t think why it sounded familiar. Was it a song she had heard at home? Hermione’s mind was too foggy for her to focus. 

By the time Hermione thought to draw her wand, Malfoy had already turned back to her, picking up right where he had left off. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, hoping that whatever it was he was going to do, it wouldn’t be permanent. The Twins’ trick with her hair a few weeks ago had been embarrassing enough, and that was supposedly harmless. How bad would a spell that was intended to harm her be? 

“Salutations!” 

Hermione’s eyes snapped open when she heard the familiar Scottish accent. 

All four students turned to see Rose Peta-Lorrum standing in the hallway. She was wearing her cloak, which flapped in a nonexistent breeze, with her hood pulled up over her head. Underneath her cloak was her black and red dress, and Hermione briefly saw a Gryffindor crest pinned to the dress. Rose kept her hands hidden underneath her cloak. 

It was then that Hermione remembered that the melody Rose had been humming was the same one that Hermione heard the girl hum to herself at night sometimes. 

“Oh, look,” Malfoy sneered. “Another mudblood!” 

“What’s that even mean?” Rose asked him. “You can’t have mud in your blood, silly Slytherin! That’s not physically possible!” 

“It is if your blood _is_ mud,” Malfoy replied smugly. 

“But it’s _blood_ , not _mud_ ,” Rose replied. “Silly Slytherin. They just sound the same, but they _mean_ different things! They’re called homophones!” 

Hermione saw Malfoy clench his fist. 

“I know the difference between blood and mud,” Malfoy growled. 

“Yay!” Rose exclaimed, jumping up and down, clapping her hands. “Good job, Draco! I think we’ve made real progress today!” 

Rose sounded so proud of herself, as if she honestly believed that she were helping Malfoy. 

Malfoy’s lips formed into a snarl. 

“I just happened to be in the neighborhood,” Rose continued, “and I heard an awful lot of commotion, so I decided to find out what the problem was.” She looked at Hermione, and tilted her head to the side. “Are you alright, Hermione?” 

“We were just having a little chat,” Malfoy sneered. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize your name was Hermione too,” Rose said. “I should have been more specific: _Pretty_ Hermione, are you alright?” 

Despite everything, Hermione blinked a few times, partly to clear the tears from her eyes, and partly out of confusion. She had certainly been called clever before, but aside from her parents, no one had ever called her pretty. Sure, the threat of imminent demise, or whatever Malfoy was planning, was far more worth her concern, but it was still odd, especially given the horrible names Hermione was accustomed to being called. 

Hermione realized that she had strange priorities when she was tired. 

“I’m… I’m alright,” Hermione whispered. 

“Run along, mudblood,” Malfoy said to Rose. “Before you get hurt.” 

Malfoy brandished his wand at Rose, who tilted her head to the other side. 

“Are you… _threatening_ me?” 

“What do _you_ think?!” snapped Malfoy. 

“Ooooh,” Rose said. “Don’t you know we aren’t supposed to use magic in the corridors?” 

“What, like this?” Malfoy sneered, raising his wand to cast a spell. 

“No, like _this_ ,” Rose replied. 

As she spoke the word “this”, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle all flew up to the ceiling, and Hermione jumped. It was as if the boys just fell upward. Hermione saw that they hadn’t been hurled onto the ceiling, but instead their ascent was slow, just as it would be for someone who was falling. 

Hermione’s eyes grew wide. Looking closer, she noticed that the boys weren’t quite on the ceiling, but were suspended just off of the ceiling. Hermione looked at Rose. She didn’t have her wand out; Hermione hadn’t even seen her _move_. How had Rose done that? 

“ _Kethé_ , huh?” Rose asked Hermione. “Spell-like abilities don’t need verbal or somatic components. Means I can just fire them off whenever I like.” 

“How did you do that?” Hermione asked as the Slytherins continued to shout. 

“ _Undermaster_!” Rose exclaimed. “Ninth-level spell that allows me to use about a dozen other spells as SLAs once per round!” Rose looked up at the boys on the ceiling. “Quit whining! It’ll wear off in a few minutes!” 

Hermione couldn’t believe her eyes. In an instant, her day had gone from awful to better. She was still exhausted, but at least now she wasn’t under threat of pain and humiliation. 

“You can come out now,” Rose said. “Although you’ll want to go around them, since that area is under the _reverse gravity_ effect.” 

Hermione looked up at the boys. Looking around the corridor, she realized the problem. 

“I can’t,” Hermione said. “There’s no room.” 

Rose looked around the corridor. 

“Oh.” 

Rose spun around and slapped the wall to Hermione’s left. As Rose’s left hand struck the wall, and the wall crumbled to dust, widening the corridor, and once again startling her roommate. 

Hermione stood staring at the altered corridor. 

“Come on, then,” Rose said, snapping Hermione out of her stupor. 

“Right,” Hermione said. She shakily walked around where the boys were stuck on the ceiling, joining Rose at the other end. 

“Now, if you boys don’t mind, we’ll be off,” Rose said. “You can just hang out for a few more minutes until that wears off. And if you’re very nice to us, then I won’t tell anyone that not only did you get beaten by a Muggle-born, but a _girl_.” 

Rose turned to leave. 

“Wait til my father hears about this!” Malfoy shouted. 

“Your poor father must be tired of hearing about every little detail of your day, Drakey!” Rose shouted back. “You should give him a break.” 

“You… you filthy…” Even Malfoy’s stock insult didn’t seem to be sufficient to express his rage. “You _freak_!” 

Rose spun around, her cloak fanning out around her. 

“Oh no!” she gasped, placing her hands on her cheeks. “Don’t call me a freak, Drakey! Anything but that!” 

“I’ll get you for this, Mudblood!” shouted Malfoy. 

“Good luck with that,” Rose said, spinning on her heels. “Come along, Hermione!” 

Hermione took one last look at the three Slytherins stuck to the ceiling, then ran after Rose. She had a lot of questions, but she couldn’t gather her thoughts long enough to ask one. 

“Where are we going?” Hermione whispered after they were far enough from the Slytherins that she wasn’t worried about them hearing. 

“There’s something I want to show you,” Rose said. “It’s a bit of a walk, so I hope you don’t mind.” 

“No, I… I guess it’s alright,” Hermione answered shakily. “How… How’d you know where to find me?” 

“I’ve been keeping track of you and Sally-Anne for the past week,” Rose replied. “Both of you have been having some trouble, specifically with the Slytherins. I saw you heading towards the Dungeons after breakfast. I figured you’d run into trouble down here, so I came down as soon as I was finished picking up Intelligencer from Inar.” 

“Picking up what from what?” asked Hermione. 

“Inar’s the dedicated wright I made this week,” Rose replied. “And Intelligencer is an expeditious messenger I made!” 

Rose pulled off her picnic basket charm from her bracelet, and a small creature flew out of her full-sized basket and perched on her shoulder. 

The creature looked like a small ferret, but with feathery wings. It had blue and black striped fur, and the feathered wings had a mixture of blue and black feathers. 

“Intelligencer!” Rose repeated as the winged ferret crawled up and perched on her shoulder. “He’s an expeditious messenger!” 

“Uh huh,” Hermione said, nodding. She wasn’t sure if she was hallucinating, or if it actually had wings. That seemed to happen a lot with Rose. “Has he got wings?” 

“Yup!” Rose beamed. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it!” 

Hermione wasn’t sure that she was _ever_ going to get used to this girl. 

“Thanks,” Hermione said. “Thanks for saving me back there.” 

“Don’t mention it,” Rose replied. “That’s what friends are for!” 

“Friends,” Hermione said. “Yeah, I guess so.” 

Hermione smiled. Through the fog that had set in her mind, one thought came in clearly: she had made a friend. 

* * *

**Note:** Inar is Dwarven for “crafter”, derived from “ina”, which means “craft”, according to _Races of Stone_. Also, the chapter title is shamelessly stolen from the song of the same name. 


	6. Fallout from Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Draco whines, Hermione sleeps, and Rose schemes.

**Disclaimer:** Despite Rose finding it, The Room is owned by J.K. Rowling. The place in Hogwarts, not the film. 

* * *

Rose hadn’t been joking when she had said that it was a bit of a walk. The crimson-haired girl led Hermione up staircase after staircase, stopping at the seventh floor. 

Hermione was grateful when Rose finally stopped walking. A few times, Hermione considered walking away and leaving her roommate; whatever it was that she wanted to show Hermione, it couldn’t _possibly_ be worth all of this. By the time they reached the seventh floor, Hermione was only giving Rose a chance out of gratitude. 

“Hold… on,” Hermione panted. “Need to… catch my… breath.” 

“Take your time,” Rose said. 

As Hermione stopped to catch her breath, she took stock of her surroundings. On one wall, there was a tapestry of a bunch of trolls attempting to dance, but other than that, there was nothing. It looked just like every other stone corridor in the castle. 

“That’s the point!” Rose exclaimed, pacing back and forth along the corridor. Her strange winged ferret thing had retreated back into her picnic basket sometime around the third or fourth floor. How much space was in that thing? The ferret _couldn’t_ be comfortable in there, could it? 

Hermione finally processed Rose’s words, and she realized that the crimson-haired first-year had just responded to the bushy-haired first-year’s thoughts. 

_Did she just read my mind?_

“Nope!” 

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, and left it open when she saw a door appearing on the empty wall. The tiny wooden door grew until it became a full-sized, arched door. 

Her mouth still hanging open, Hermione turned to look at Rose, who in turn grinned back at her. 

“ _Kethé_ , huh?” Rose said, looking at the door. “I haven’t got a name for it; I just keep calling it ‘The Room’. I found it about a week ago. You have to walk past it three times and think about what you need it to be. It took a while to figure that out; I had to figure it out from the stones, and unfortunately, stones aren’t very specific. All they told me was ‘pace and ponder’. Like I said, not very specific.” 

“What was that word?” asked Hermione. 

“‘Specific’?” 

“No, the first word you used.” 

“ _Kethé_?” 

“That one.” 

“Draconic for ‘Shiny’. My friend Bowie uses it a lot!” 

“Bowie? As in _David_ Bowie?” 

“Who’s David Bowie?” 

Hermione paused for a moment. She had hardly seen Rose at all in the past week. The other girl always vanished immediately after class, and Hermione was certain that she hadn’t seen Rose at their meals. Wait, had she? Hermione couldn’t think straight. In fact, she could hardly _see_ straight. How long had it been since she had gotten a full night’s rest? 

Rose looked at Hermione, tilting her head to the side. 

“You in there?” 

Hermione jumped, not realizing that she had been spacing out again. 

“Yeah, er… I’m fine! Is this where you’ve been spending all your time this week?” 

“Yup!” Rose replied. 

Rose opened the door, and Hermione looked inside. 

It was like a miniature common room. The floor was covered in a soft, red carpet. There was a fire crackling quietly in a fireplace on one wall, and facing the fireplace were two red armchairs. Not too far from the fireplace was a series of three red couches, arranged in an open square. Two of the couches faced each other, while the third faced the fireplace. Adorning the couches were black pillows, each with a red rose insignia on them. 

Rose skipped over and flopped down with as little grace as possible on one of the couches. Hermione stood at the entrance for a moment, still getting over the whole “appearing room” bit. 

“Come on,” Rose said, straightening herself up and motioning to the couch opposite her. “Have a seat!” 

Hermione reluctantly walked over and sat down on the couch. It was soft, but remained firm enough to be comfortable. Hermione resisted the urge to lay down on the couch and fall asleep. 

“Hermione, as you’ve worked out, I’m not a people person,” Rose began. “I’ve always left that to my friends. Sure, I’ve got the Diplomacy mod for it, but I don’t really want to put in the effort beyond being polite.” 

Hermione nodded absently. Where did the objects come from? The castle didn’t just conjure objects for the room, did it? 

“How much sleep have you gotten in the past week?” Rose asked. 

Hermione nodded again. 

“That wasn’t a yes-or-no question,” Rose said. 

Hermione nodded. 

“Hermione, my hair’s on fire.” 

“What?” Hermione asked. 

“Ali was right,” Rose said. “Fire does always get peoples’ attention.” 

“I’m trying to pay attention,” Hermione said as her eyelids drooped. 

“No, you’re trying to fall asleep,” Rose said. “You’re gonna start taking penalties if you don’t get rest soon.” 

“Penalties?” Hermione asked, rubbing her eyes. 

“It’s alright,” Rose said, “I often forget about the sleep rules, too.” Rose tilted her head. “Actually, what are the rules on sleep?” 

“I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about,” Hermione said. 

“It’s alright,” Rose said. “I guess people just assume you’ve got to sleep. Still, you’re a spellcaster, so you’ll need eight hours of rest anyway.” 

“I’m fine,” Hermione said. 

“No, you’re not. Your eyes are hardly open, although that’s probably for the best, since they’re kinda red, and you’re starting to look pale.” 

“I’m fine,” Hermione repeated. 

“I want to help,” Rose continued. “Now, if I’m not mistaken, you’re trying to learn everything here, right?” 

Hermione slowly nodded. 

“I can help you with that. So I’ll make you a deal: If you agree to take better care of yourself, then I’ll give you something that will allow you to read a book just by touching it.” 

_That_ got Hermione’s attention. 

“What?” 

“Command-word item of _scholar’s touch_ ,” Rose replied. “Let’s see… first-level spell, CL one, command-word activation, works for only one person… with my crafting feats that becomes 675 gold total… I could even have it for you by tomorrow morning.” 

Hermione stared at her. 

“You _can’t_ be serious!” 

“I am,” Rose replied. “I’m an Artificer. I can do all sorts of cool things!” 

Hermione continued to stare at the strange girl. Hermione was exhausted. She had just seen one of her roommates use wandless magic to stick three students to the ceiling, then carve out a section of the wall by touching it. Up until now, Hermione just figured that Rose was delusional. After what happened today, Hermione was seriously starting to rethink that. Maybe there was something to this girl. 

“So, do we have a deal?” 

“I’ve got a few questions first,” Hermione said. 

“Go for it.” 

“How do you know your way around Hogwarts?” 

Rose shrugged. “I’ve got a good memory, and if I’m ever lost, the stones can usually give me directions.” 

_I don’t know what I was expecting,_ Hermione thought. “What about last Friday night? You told me not to go, then we found you lurking around.” 

“I got bored.” 

“What?!” Hermione shrieked. “You got bored, so you suddenly decide you’re going to go wandering the castle?!” 

“Yup,” Rose replied. 

“What in God’s name would make you think that’s a good idea?!” 

“What’s God?” 

Hermione blinked. “You’re kidding, right?” 

“I know what a god is, but usually we call them ‘deities’,” Rose said. “Is there someone called ‘God’?” 

Hermione closed her eyes, forcing herself to concentrate. “You’re serious?” 

“Not as a rule,” Rose replied. 

Hermione rubbed her forehead. “I’m too tired to deal with you right now, Rose. Please just give me a straight answer. Preferably one that makes sense.” 

“I’ve never heard of someone called ‘God’. There are people who believe themselves to be deities, and people who actually are deities, but I don’t know anyone who is named as such.” 

Hermione nodded. “Thank you. There are some religions… Muggle religions, I don’t know if Wizards have them, that worship someone called God, or… I can’t remember what some of the others call him. I think the biggest one is Christianity, although I’m not positive it’s the biggest. It’s certainly the biggest in Europe. It teaches that God created the Earth, which is where we live. He then made humans to rule the Earth and all the animals on it. Afterwards, he watched over mankind to help them, sending his son to guide them.” 

“Up until the bit about having a kid, he sounds like EL,” Rose said. 

“What’s EL?” 

Rose tilted her head. “You know, I really don’t know. Other than kinda annoying and possibly all-powerful, I’m not sure what he is. He’s not limited by the powers of deities, and he’s got a unique brand of highly interfering noninterference, and I’m pretty sure he’s the reason I’m here.” 

“Here?” 

“In this plane, rather than at home,” Rose replied. 

Hermione tried to process Rose’s words, but she could hardly concentrate with her mind as cloudy as it was. All Hermione wanted to do was sleep, and the couch was horribly comfortable. 

“Can’t you just go home?” Hermione asked. “Don’t your parents want to know where you are?” 

Rose’s cheer faded from her face. 

“My parents are gone.” 

Hermione paled. 

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know, and I’m–” 

“It’s okay!” Rose exclaimed, perking up again. “My big brother Sk’lar’s going to bring them back.” 

For the first time all day, Hermione’s fatigue played in her favor. Had she been more conscious, she would’ve dismissed Rose, but now it suddenly made so much sense. It was like puzzle pieces falling into place. 

Hermione finally understood the girl’s delusions. Rose had created an entire fictional world for herself to make up for her parents being gone. Rose even had an “older sibling” that would fix it for her. This entire time Hermione had thought Rose was crazy, but in reality, she was just a scared little girl that missed her parents. 

“Okay, Rose,” Hermione replied. “Whatever you say. I’m done asking questions.” 

Rose beamed. 

“Come on,” Rose said, getting up from the couch. “It takes me an hour to get a project started. While I’m doing that, you can get some rest.” 

“Okay,” Hermione said hesitantly, not certain she wanted to fall asleep around Rose. Innocent child or not, Rose had still stuck three boys to the ceiling not 20 minutes ago. 

The girls left the Room, but didn’t go far. Rose turned right around and began to pace again. 

_I need a place to craft and rest. I need a place to craft and rest. I need a place to craft and rest._

The door appeared again, and Rose went inside, Hermione following close behind. 

Hermione looked around, awestruck by the fact that the Room had actually changed. It was amazing. It was smaller than the miniature common room had been, probably about 20 feet by 10 feet. The floors, walls, and ceiling were all made of stone bricks, similar to the rest of the castle. There was a furnace against the wall to her left, which was one of the two shorter walls. Taking up the rest of the wall were a pair of tables that flanked the furnace. Not too far from the furnace against the far wall was a large cauldron. Against the wall through which they had entered were a bunch of drawers; each one bore a label in a language Hermione didn’t recognize. Against the wall a few feet to her right was a bed for a single person. The bed had bright red sheets and matching pillows. Draped over the bed was a heavy, blue comforter with a pattern of red rose petals drifting in the wind. 

They were greeted by a small creature no more than three feet tall. It looked like a large, thin, soft-boiled egg, with two small stumpy legs at its base. On its side were two arms, in one of which it was carrying a hammer. It had bright yellow skin and wore blue overalls. Its eyes took up most of where Hermione imagined its head would be. The creature had a mouth, but Hermione didn’t see anything that resembled a nose or ears. 

“Salutations, Inar!” Rose greeted the small creature. “I’ve got another job. We’re going to make a bracelet of _scholar’s touch_.” 

The creature nodded, making squeaking sounds as it did. 

While Rose and “Inar” went to work, Hermione lied down on the bed. It was very soft, and the pillow was exactly as fluffy as Hermione liked it. She closed her eyes, and didn’t open them again until Rose woke her up to go to lunch. 

* * *

Just as the mudblood had said, two minutes later, Draco Malfoy fell to the ground. Grumbling, he picked himself up, dusted himself off, confirmed that his hair didn’t look awful, then began to storm off. No one made a fool of Draco Malfoy! Especially not a mudblood! Draco was going to make her pay for this! His father would hear about what happened in the near future, but Draco needed to make sure justice was served. Draco knew just who to ask, but first he needed a cover story. It wouldn’t go over well with a professor if Draco admitted to threatening another student, even if it was just a worthless mudblood. 

After a few seconds, Crabbe and Goyle fell into step behind him, and together they walked straight to Professor Snape’s office. 

When they reached the Potion Master’s office a minute later, Draco began banging on the door. 

“Professor Snape!” 

Severus looked at his office door. He didn’t usually stay in his office on weekends, but today he had been taking inventory to figure out what else he needed for veritaserum. Severus didn’t have any immediate plans to use it, but he liked to have some in stock at all times, just in case Albus finally caved and let him use it on students. 

_Merlin, the boy even_ whines _like his father._

Severus found it amusing, as much as was possible, that Draco Malfoy looked almost identical to his father. He didn’t know if the son was attempting to impersonate his father out of respect, or if the father was forcing his son to be just like him. Knowing Lucius Malfoy, the latter was far more likely than the former. 

“Professor Snape!” 

After taking a few seconds to complete his inventory, Severus determined that he had a few drops of veritaserum left, and everything he needed to make more. After that, he strode over to his office door and opened it. 

Standing in front of him were Draco and his two henchmen, all three of them bruised and covered in dirt. 

“What happened?” 

“Peta-Lorrum!” Draco snarled. 

Severus nodded his head, indicating that the boys should enter. Draco pushed past him, strutting into the Potions Master’s office. 

Severus strode over to his desk and calmly took a seat. Draco slumped into one of the chairs; his goons immediately mirrored him. 

“We were walking along, minding our own business!” Draco explained. “Then Peta-Lorrum and Granger show up, wave their wands, and suddenly we’re on the ceiling! Then they laugh at us, and walk off!” 

As Draco told his story, Crabbe and Goyle nodded, trying and failing to add credibility to their boss’s story. 

_Typical Gryffindors,_ Severus thought, _walking around as if they own the castle, though not that different from you, Draco._

“I’ll ensure that they’re punished,” Severus said. 

Draco sneered, an expression that was mirrored by the other boys. 

“In the meantime, go to the Hospital Wing and have Madame Pomfrey look you over.” 

“I’m _fine_ ,” Draco said indignantly, storming out of the room. 

After the boys left, Severus took a moment to gather his thoughts. Severus didn’t particularly _like_ Draco, but seeing as how he needed the boy’s father to like him, it helped that the boy liked Severus. He wasn’t sure about a first-year student pulling off something like this, but Severus already suspected that Peta-Lorrum’s sweet and innocent ruse was just that; a ruse. 

He started off towards Albus’ office, then stopped himself. The proper way to handle the situation would be to go to Minerva, as it involved her students. If Severus went to Albus, he would remind the Potions Master of this, and defer him to Minerva. The Transfiguration Professor would then lecture Severus on the chain of command, and he did _not_ want to sit through yet another lecture on the subject. 

Sighing, he began the walk to Minerva’s flat. It was going to be a long day. 

* * *

“Visitor for you, Ma’am,” came the voice of the portrait that guarded Minerva McGonagall’s flat. “Severus Snape.” 

Minerva sighed. This could not _possibly_ go well. 

“Let him in.” 

The portrait swung open, revealing the Potions Master. He looked even grouchier than usual. 

“We need to discuss one of your students.” 

Minerva sighed. 

“What’d those two do _this_ – Wait, you said ‘one’.” 

“Peta-Lorrum.” 

Minerva groaned. 

“I should’ve known,” she muttered, motioning for Severus to come inside. “She’s been strangely quiet this week, and I haven’t seen her outside of class. However, if we’re going to discuss this–” 

“Calming draught,” Severus said, holding up a silver flask that always accompanied him to meetings when discussing the Weasley Twins. Or really any other annoying students. “I never enter a meeting without the Weasley Flask.” 

“Brilliant,” Minerva said, taking the flask. “What did she do?” 

“Allegedly stuck three of my students to the ceiling.” 

Minerva took a sip from the flask, and passed it back to Severus. 

“‘Allegedly’?” 

“Lucius Jr. had the bruises to prove it,” Severus replied. “The boy claims that Granger and Peta-Lorrum stuck him to the ceiling.” 

“ _That’s_ a lie. Granger’s a saint; I don’t think that girl has it in her to cause trouble. She becomes almost as timid as Perks the second I start glaring at her.” 

“I didn’t think she seemed the type to get up to no good,” Severus replied. He smirked. “Even if she _is_ a Gryffindor.” 

“ _Anyway_ ,” Minerva said. For such a smart man, Severus could be really immature sometimes. “Doesn’t this discredit your source?” 

“Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t think she’s up to something.” 

Minerva glared at him. 

“So she’s talented,” she conceded. “That doesn’t mean that she’s up to something. Lots of students are talented. There’s no reason to treat this any differently than any other fight between students.” 

“Well–” 

“And I’m _sure_ Albus will agree, so don’t even _think_ about going over my head again.” 

If there was one thing that Minerva could count on, it was Severus ignoring her and going straight to Albus. She was amazed that he had actually gone to her this time, as opposed to the last several incidents concerning her students. Was he finally getting bored of her lectures on the chain of command? 

“I’ll talk to them after lunch,” Minerva said, rising to her feet. “Both of them, I suppose. I do appreciate you coming to me instead of Albus.” 

“I’m not your student anymore, Minerva, you don’t need to lecture me,” Severus said, storing the Weasley Flask. 

_If only that were true,_ Minerva thought as she watched the Potions Master leave. 

* * *

During lunch that day, Professor McGonagall approached the Gryffindor table. 

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum, Ms. Granger, please see me in my office after lunch.” 

“Yes, Ma’am!” exclaimed Rose. 

Hermione nodded nervously. 

“Is our Little Miss Perfect in trouble?” George gasped. 

“What’d you do?” inquired Fred. 

“I didn’t do anything!” shouted Hermione. “Rose was the one who stuck Malfoy to the ceiling!” 

The Twins exchanged glances, then looked at Rose with approval. 

“Nice!” 

Rose grinned. 

“Don’t encourage her!” Hermione shouted. “It’s bad enough that you three keep scheming! We’re going to–” 

“Hermione, breathe,” Rose said. “Deep breath. We’re going to be fine. We’ll probably just lose some points. It’s no big deal.” 

“ _No big deal?!_ ” Hermione shrieked. “We could be expelled or–” 

“Hermione,” George said. 

“Relax,” Fred added. 

“We’ve allegedly done–” 

“–so much worse than that.” 

“ _We’re_ still here–” 

“–so they’re not going to expel you.” 

They had a point. From what Hermione had heard since coming to Hogwarts, before her sat two of the biggest troublemakers at Hogwarts. If they weren’t actively pranking someone, then they were _thinking_ about pranking someone. The Weasley Twins were only third-years and they had already made an impression at the school. There were even entire _rules_ made because of them. If they hadn’t been expelled yet, then maybe she would be alright. 

“Eat some lunch, then we’ll head off to Professor McGonagall’s office,” Rose said. 

“What about you?” 

“I don’t eat.” 

Hermione stared at Rose in disbelief. She was joined by Sally-Anne, who had been quietly listening to their conversation. 

“Ooooooh!” said the Twins. 

“ _That’s_ why we never see you eat!” George exclaimed. 

“We’ve been trying to get you for weeks!” Fred added. 

Rose grinned. “You were?” 

“We were gonna put something in your food.” 

“Probably something to make you sprout gils–” 

“Or cause boils to pop up on your face–” 

“Or just make your food explode.” 

“It’s not so easy when I don’t eat,” Rose bragged, still grinning. “Good luck getting any of my belongings either. They never leave my person.” 

“You can carry all of your things with you?” asked Fred, intrigued. 

“You’ve _got_ to tell us how!” George said. 

Rose held up her bracelet, giving them the same explanation she gave her roommates their first night at school. As she explained her charms, the boys grew more and more interested. 

“That’s _brilliant!_ ” they exclaimed. 

“Just imagine!” 

“We could smuggle anything anywhere!” 

“If that’s what you want,” Rose said, “you’ll probably want a _glove of storing_. Each one can hold a single item, but unless specially made, you can only use one at a time. A _wand bracelet_ is pretty good, but the items can still be seen. Plus, the bracelet has a size limit. When expanded to full size, each of these weighs less than three pounds. There’s nothing about extradimensional storage, though. On the other hand, a _glove of storing_ can’t store extradimensional storage.” Rose tilted her head to the side. “Actually, I’m not sure. Only a _bag of holding_ and _portable hole_ are known to explode when you put one in the other. Everyone’s just assumed that everything else will too.” 

“Explode?!” Hermione gasped. 

The Twins paused for a moment, processing everything that Rose had just said. 

“Wait a minute,” George said. He turned to Fred. “I think she’s having us on, Fred.” 

“You’re probably right, George.” 

Rose pulled off the picnic basket charm from her bracelet, and before the Twins’ eyes, it expanded into a full-sized picnic basket. From the basket, Rose pulled a large, black metal tube. It was over three feet long, way too long to fit in the basket. She placed the tube back in the basket, then replaced the basket on her bracelet. The moment the basket came into contact with the bracelet, it reverted back to a charm. 

Rose looked at the boys expectantly. 

Hermione, Fred, George, and Sally-Anne gaped at her. 

“Believe me now?” 

Four heads nodded. 

“Can we keep you?” asked George. 

* * *

After lunch, Hermione and Rose made their way to Professor McGonagall’s office as instructed. When they arrived, Hermione was more than a little relieved to find that Professor Snape would not be representing his students. Professor McGonagall was intimidating enough without Professor Snape backing her up. 

“Please have a seat,” Professor McGonagall said, indicating two chairs set up in front of her desk. 

Rose skipped over to the seats, and sat down; she was followed shortly thereafter by Hermione, who displayed less enthusiasm than her companion. 

“Professor Snape told me that you two used magic on students earlier today,” McGonagall began. “Is this true?” 

“Well… er… Malfoy had me backed into a corner, and…” Hermione began. Despite her catnap earlier, she was still tired. Her ability to function was being further impaired by the intimidating glare of Professor McGonagall and Hermione’s deeply ingrained dislike of negative attention from an authority figure. 

“Draco was going to assault Hermione with magic, Ma’am,” Rose said. Rose had long since overcome her fear of authority figures. It was still a little off putting how intimidating McGonagall was. She was a Wizard, right? Or witch, or whatever silly name they wanted to use. How did she have the skill points to spare for Intimidate? Sk’lar hadn’t had spare skill points until he had hit level 14 or so. How powerful was McGonagall? 

“Ms. Granger, is this true?” McGonagall asked. 

Hermione erratically nodded her head. 

“So, in order to neutralize the boys, I used _reverse gravity_ on them.” 

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum, it is forbidden to use magic in the corridors,” McGonagall informed her. She wasn’t even going to bother asking what “reverse gravity” was. 

“They were fine!” Rose insisted. “It was only a few feet, so his falling damage was minimal. _And_ it was only a readied action in response to him going after me.” 

Oddly enough, that made sense to Minerva. After surviving the Weasley Twins for two years and the Marauders for seven, perhaps she was finally beginning to understand the troublemakers that flocked to her house. 

“Be that as it may,” Minerva said, “ten points from Gryffindor for using magic in the corridors. And _next_ time, Ms. Peta-Lorrum, please tell a teacher.” 

“That wouldn’t have been possible, Ma’am,” Rose said. “Draco and his minions would have been gone by the time I reached you. They would have just gotten away with hurting Hermione.” 

“Nevertheless, _don’t_ attack other students, regardless of the circumstances,” McGonagall scolded. “That will be all.” 

“Fair enough,” Rose replied. “Next time Draco decides to attack Hermione, I won’t step in, watch him hurt my best friend, then drag her damaged body here to tell you all about it.” 

* * *

The next morning, Hermione awoke to find Rose staring at her. 

“Ahh!” 

“What is it?!” shouted Rose, her wand in hand. She waved it around the room, searching for a target. “Tarrasque?! Dragons?! Draco?!” 

“Um…,” Hermione started. “No, you just startled me.” 

“Oh,” Rose said, lowering her wand. “Well, now I just feel silly.” 

_That’s possible?_ thought Hermione as she sat up, rubbing her eyes. 

“Why did you do that?” 

“Do what?” 

“Stare at me while I was sleeping?” 

“How else was I supposed to know when you woke up?” 

“Er… Why did you need to know?” 

“It’s finished!” Rose produced a bracelet from her picnic basket and presented it to Hermione. “Happy Belated Birthday, Hermione!” 

Hermione continued to stare back at her. “How’d you know it was just my birthday?” 

“Ref told me that you were a little upset that you hadn’t made any friends with whom to celebrate it,” Rose said, pulling out their Transfiguration book from her basket. 

“Who’s Ref?” 

“Reflectesalon!” Rose exclaimed. “He’s my imaginary friend!” 

Hermione stared at her. 

“Sure,” she said, taking the bracelet. “What do I do?” 

“Put it on, say ‘boop’, and touch the book.” 

Hermione raised her eyebrows, while her eyes remained half closed. 

“Seriously?” Hermione deadpanned. 

“If I’m wrong, then you’ll just look a little silly. We’re the only two awake, except for Sally-Anne who’s just pretending to be asleep. Parvati and Lavender are _really_ heavy sleepers.” 

“Alright,” Hermione conceded, and put on the bracelet. She sighed, then said, “Boop.” 

As Hermione touched the book, she felt a rush of information enter her head. In a matter of a few seconds, she could see the pages of the textbook in her head. She saw all the words clearly as if she had just read them instantly. Hermione looked up at Rose, who was grinning like a maniac. 

“What was that?” Hermione panted. 

“ _Scholar’s touch_ ,” Rose replied, still grinning. “It’s how I read all of our books.” 

“You do that _frequently_?” Hermione asked, holding her hand to her head, hoping the headache would subside. 

“You’ll get used to it,” Rose said. 

* * *

That night, Hermione pulled out one of her notebooks. She hadn’t been sure what to write to her parents in her weekly letter before yesterday, but now she knew. 

_Dear Mum and Dad_ , 

_The bad news is that this week was still pretty miserable. I haven’t been sleeping well since finding that dog on the third floor. Even if it doesn’t leave the third floor, it’s still a little scary knowing that it’s here. The good news is that I’ve made a new friend. Sort of._

_I’m still getting picked on by Draco Malfoy, who has family connections that allow him to get away with just about anything. Today I went exploring the castle, and ended up in the Dungeons, which is where the Slytherin Common Room is. It was there that none other than Malfoy found me, and literally backed me into a corner. He had me trapped, threatening me with his wand._

_It was then that one of my housemates came along. Her name’s Rose Peta-Lorrum (Yes, her name sounds like “Rose Petal”). She says she’s a Muggle-born like me, but she’s really clever, if a little odd. She talks about people and places that I don’t think exist, as if she’s created a whole world for herself. I think it’s to fill the void of her late parents._

_Anyway, Rose cast a spell that she said reversed the local gravity around Malfoy and his two bodyguards, and then carved out a piece of the wall so I could walk around it. It was amazing the way she stood up to them. I think she’s done this kind of thing before._

_After we left the Dungeons, Rose showed me a hidden room that she keeps calling ’The Room’. It’s a special room that if you walk past the entrance three times, the door appears and the room becomes anything you want. She said she found it by talking to the walls. I still don’t know whether to believe her, but I don’t see how she did it otherwise. Rose says a lot of strange things like that._

_But like I said, I think I’ve made a new friend._

_Love_ , 

_Hermione_

* * *

**Note:** To answer Hermione’s question, yes, _David_ Bowie. When coming up with Bowie’s name, David Bowie was the first musician whose name popped into my head that I could use as a proper name. Thus, “Bowie” became Draconic for “born”. 

For those D &D fans reading this, Rose does make items that work only for a single person. In game terms, they’re cursed items that work under the condition that they’re used by a specific person. I devised the 50% base price cut along the same lines as the rules for only working for someone of the correct alignment or class. 


	7. Making Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rose makes many new friends, although Draco Malfoy probably isn't one of them.

**Disclaimer** I own each of the characters of _Exalted_ , but not necessarily the references upon which each are based. And no matter how many walls are erected, I don’t own Harry Potter; J.K. Rowling does. I also claim no rights to The Legend of Zelda. 

* * *

Mostly out of boredom, Rose was staying in her bed Monday morning. It was still dark out, although Rose didn’t know exactly what time it was. 

Also, Rose found it easier to hold a conversation without the possibility of being distracted by other people. She figured the chances of being caught by Mr. Filch were low, but she didn’t want to risk that tonight would be the night he took a level in Rogue and improved his Perception Modifier. 

<Anything?> she asked for the third time in as many minutes. <Eom.>

<Rose, I’m not going to work faster if you rush me,> her brother replied. <In fact, I might work slower to teach you patience. Eom.>

<You’ve already tried that, Sk’lar,> Rose replied, <and you know it doesn’t work.>

<No, but I can pretend,> the Elf pathed. <I’ve been through everything Episti Academy’s got on interplanar travel and the Great Wheel. There’s absolutely nothing about the Rowling Plane. So far as I can tell, it doesn’t exist.>

<What if the library’s got hidden books?> she asked. <This one’s got a forbidden section or something.>

<First, if it’s forbidden, why’d they even bother telling you about it?> her brother asked. <They should just hide it and not tell anyone. Second–>

<I guess students are allowed to use it, they just need a teacher’s permission first.>

<Then it’s not forbidden, just restricted,> her brother pathed. <Second, I’m the headmaster; Episti isn’t going to hide anything from me, despite some of the staff still not liking me.>

<I thought you got rid of everyone that didn’t like you two years ago when you took over,> Rose pathed. 

<Not quite, just most of them. Unfortunately, I couldn’t replace all of them, so I’m still working on it.>

<Did you ask Uncle Oz for help?>

<Professor Ozerl already helped me enough; I wasn’t going to ask him for anything more.>

<First, he _hates_ it when you call him Professor Ozerl; call him Oz like he’s asked you to. Second, he’s your friend, not your teacher anymore. He was practically my father for five years, and _I_ don’t mind calling him ’Oz’. >

< _Anyway_ ,> Sk’lar pathed. <Getting back on topic, there’s nothing to indicate that another plane even exists, especially not one that apparently shares many traits in common with the Material Plane. You said the Ethereal Plane coexists with it?>

<I can still _blink_ as I please, > Rose replied. <That means I can access the Ethereal Plane, right?>

<Researchers have proven that the planes make up some sort of topology,> Sk’lar explained. <The specific relationship between Material Plane, the Ethereal Plane, and the Plane of Shadow is one such that–>

<If I wanted a lecture, I would’ve asked a professor!>

<You _are_ asking a professor, > Sk’lar replied. 

<Fine, then stop using made up words.>

<I haven’t been making up words.>

<Oh yeah? What about ’topology’?>

<Rose, for the last time, just because you haven’t heard a word before doesn’t mean I manufactured it.>

<Sure, it doesn’t,> Rose replied. 

<Bottom line is the Ethereal Plane doesn’t coincide with the other planes. From your descriptions, the Rowling Plane is almost identical in nature to that of the Material Plane.>

<Still not making sense,> Rose pathed. <Explain it like I’m Carolina.>

<That’s not fair,> Sk’lar scolded. <Carolina’s–>

<Right, she’s your girlfriend, and you’ve got to stand up for her honor,> Rose pathed. 

<My _best_ friend, and she simply chose a path that involved reading people rather than books. >

<Sk’lar, you’re being difficult again,> Rose pathed. 

<I’m saying whatever plane on which you’ve found yourself doesn’t make any sense,> Sk’lar pathed. <I checked the Outlands, and Bowie and Carolina worked their planar connections. We’ve got nothing. The Outlands aren’t attached to the Rowling Plane, nor is it an inner plane.>

<Hold on, didn’t you once say you could create a plane?> Rose asked. 

<You’re thinking of the spell _genesis_ that allows me to create a _demiplane_ ,> Sk’lar replied. <That’s different. It’s a subplane of the Ethereal Plane, not an actual plane.>

<So couldn’t the Rowling Plane be a subplane?> Rose asked. 

<Not unless the creator of the plane casted _genesis_ over a thousand times. Each casting of the spell adds another 180 feet, and costs 5000 XP. >

<What about–>

<It’s ninth-level, which prevents _wish_ from replicating it reliably. >

Rose frowned. 

<So just to recap,> she pathed, <the Rowling Plane shouldn’t exist, but it does, and you’ve got no means of getting here.>

<Correct,> Sk’lar pathed. 

<How’d you know its name?> Rose asked. 

<It popped into my head when I used _discern location_ to find you, > Sk’lar pathed. 

<What if it’s called something else to other people?> Rose asked. <Then what?>

<I believe you misunderstand,> Sk’lar pathed. <That’s not normal for _discern location_. Normally, I get a sense of where something is, but I’ve got to match it to a name. I can use it as the target of _greater teleport_ or _find the path_ , as I’ve done before, but I don’t get a name.>

Rose groaned. 

<It was him, wasn’t it?>

<Probably, although I didn’t recognize his voice this time,> Sk’lar pathed. <Probably trying to hide his involvement.>

<Why does EL like you lot so much?> Rose asked. 

<He likes Carolina, and believes the rest of us can be helpful, although it was you he sent on a secret mission.>

<Is it a secret mission if you keep it a secret from the person you send on it?>

<I think that just enhances the secrecy.>

<Of course it does,> Rose pathed. <You know, everyone here talks with an Elven accent.>

<Don’t worry,> Sk’lar pathed. <I’m sure it won’t go as badly as Arcrel.>

<I’m not worried,> Rose replied. <I’m older now, wiser, and–>

<’Wiser’?> Sk’lar asked sceptically. 

<Probably,> Rose pathed. <Why?>

<No reason,> her brother replied. 

<I’m fine, Sk’lar. You don’t need to worry about me.>

<You know I’m going to worry about you.>

<You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t,> Rose pathed. <Thanks for helping me.>

<I’ll talk to you later,> Sk’lar pathed. <Sk’lar out.>

<Rose out.>

Not a minute later, Rose heard a noise in her room. She pulled out her basket, then put on her goggles. As the goggles activated, she was able to see everything clearly for 120 feet. This outlined the small creature standing that stood next to her bed. 

It was short, no bigger than two feet. The creature before her had rough and wrinkled looking skin, although Rose couldn’t discern colour with no adequate light source. It’s eyes were each about the size of one of the lenses on Rose’s _Rose Film Goggles_. It’s limbs were small and thin, and its hands looked almost like an infant’s. A few strands of white hair were all it had atop its head, and its short nose drooped into a small hook on its face. 

“Who are you?” Rose asked. “What are you?” 

“Eeep!” the creature squealed. “Dripty is being sorry Miss; Dripty was not realizing you was being awake.” 

“Alright,” Rose replied. “What are you?” 

“Dripty is being a house-elf,” Dripty replied. 

“Oh. That’s what a house-elf looks like.” 

Rose pulled out her boots from her picnic basket, tossed them on the ground, and hopped into them. 

Dripty jumped back, startled. 

“It’s alright, Dripty,” Rose said. “My name’s Rose. Rose Peta-Lorrum.” She curtsied. “It’s nice to meet you!” 

“It is being nice to meet you too, Miss Rose.” 

Rose opened her mouth to protest at being called “Miss Rose”, then closed it. That had a ring to it. Miss Rose. Kind of like how Sarista the Unicorn always called Rose “My Lady”. She wasn’t sure why she liked “Miss Rose”, but she was going to stick with it. 

“What are you doing?” Rose asked her new friend. 

“Dripty is collecting the laundry.” Dripty motioned to a pile of laundry that Rose did not remember seeing when she went to sleep. “Dripty is taking it to be cleaned.” 

“Oh. Can I help?” 

“Oh no!” Dripty squeaked, a look of horror crossing over his face. “You must not be helping Dripty, Miss Rose! Dripty must be doing laundry on his own.” 

“Hah! Male! I was right!” Rose exclaimed, jumping up and down. This earned her a confused look from Dripty. “I was guessing at your gender, and I was right!” 

“Is that why Miss Rose asked Dripty if she could be helping him?” 

“No, I really want to help. That was just a happy coincidence that I also managed to get an answer to my question.” 

Dripty shook his head, causing his floppy ears to swing to and fro about his head. 

“No!” 

It wasn’t that Rose wanted to help collect the laundry, but rather that she had already made up her mind that she was going to help. She thought for a moment. House-Elves were supposed to be obsessed with working. What would a workaholic want? Probably to do more work. 

_Diplomacy Mod, don’t fail me now!_

“If I help you with this, won’t that mean that you can get even more done than if I didn’t help you?” 

Dripty paused for a moment. 

“Dripty is not supposed to be having any help!” he insisted. 

“But with twice the people working, it will take half the time. Then you can get more work done.” 

Dripty considered this for a moment. 

“Dripty guesses… But only this once!” 

“Deal.” 

Rose helped Dripty collect the clothes. Wearing her gloves, it didn’t bother her much. She had handled far worse, after all. 

“Hey, Dripty, where do the house-elves stay when they’re not cooking or cleaning?” 

“We is staying in the house-elves’ dorms, Miss Rose, right above the Great Hall.” 

“Are students allowed up there?” 

Dripty stopped collecting laundry and stared at Rose. 

“Dripty is sorry, Miss Rose, but Dripty is not knowing. No one has ever asked Dripty that before. Dripty is not being sure anyone has ever asked any house-elf that before.” 

“Would one of the professors know?” 

“Dripty is not sure, but the Head Elf, Miss Atrien, would know. She is knowing lots.” 

“Would you please ask her for me?” 

“Dripty will be doing that, Miss Rose!” 

“Thanks,” Rose said, dropping another pile of clothes onto the pile. How many clothes did Lavender have? “One more question, Dripty: Do house-elves really like working? All the books I’ve read seem to suggest it, but there’s nothing dedicated to house-elves, so I’m not really sure. Also, for some reason, none of them have got a picture of a house-elf.” 

“Oh yes, Miss Rose, we is enjoying it very much. House-Elves is living to serve!” 

“Okay,” Rose said. “I guess if you love what you do, then you never have to work a day!” Rose grinned. “My sister said that to me once.” 

“That is being very true, Miss Rose!” 

After a few moments, Dripty looked at Rose. 

“Why is Miss Rose not being asleep?” 

“I don’t need much sleep,” Rose replied. “I was talking to my brother a few rounds ago, and before that, I ran through my daily ritual of casting over 20 spells on myself.” 

“Really?” 

“Yup! I recently made a _lesser metamagic rod of twin spell_ to reduce the number of spells I need, and to cut my XP cost each day, but otherwise, I cast _Choose Destiny_ , _Stormrage_ , _Speak with Anything_ , _Foresight_ , _Greater Dimension Jumper_ , _Greater Visage of the Deity_ , _Undermaster_ , and _Shapechange_ , to name a few of them. Those are the ones from my _Staff of Power Surge_ , which I designed and built myself. I’ve also got lower level spells such as _divine power_ and _swift haste_ persisted on me.” 

Dripty nodded. “Dripty is not understanding any of that.” 

“It’s okay,” Rose replied. “I get that a lot.” 

Rose and Dripty collected the rest of the laundry. 

“Thank you for helping Dripty, Miss Rose. It was very nice meeting you.” 

“Likewise, Dripty.” 

Dripty gathered up the laundry and vanished with a quiet crack. 

Rose hopped up on her bed, laid down, and stared up at the ceiling. 

<Ref, what do I feel like doing now that I’m wide awake?>

<Did you already get the required four hours of rest for your infusions?>

<Yup!> she replied, grinning. <How did I ever survive when I needed eight hours to prep infusions?>

<You’ve never needed eight hours, Rose. Professor Ozerl gave you the _ring of greater sustenance_ before you took your first level of Artificer. >

<Oh, yeah!> Rose exclaimed, grinning. <Good times!>

Rose laid in bed for six seconds before deciding that she was in desperate need of something to do. As Rose often did when she was bored, she took the first idea that popped into her head. 

<I’ve got an idea, Ref,> she told him, grinning. <It’s gonna be hilarious!>

* * *

After thoroughly greasing his hair, Draco Malfoy was ready for the day. Flanked by his two henchmen, he strode down the short passageway out of the Slytherin Dungeon. When he reached it, he found several of his housemates standing around the entrance way, looking rather confused. 

_What are these future henchmen doing now?_ he wondered. 

“What’s going on?” he asked. 

“The wall moved aside to reveal… well, another wall,” said one of his housemates whose name wasn’t important to him. 

“Don’t be daft,” Draco said, walking up to the wall. From this side, it should have opened automatically, but it wasn’t budging. Perhaps it was stuck? He put his hands on it, and tried pressing against it, but it still wouldn’t open. 

“Way to show us what intelligence really looks like, Malfoy,” the other Slytherin said. He sneered at Draco, who shot the boy a glare. 

“If it isn’t stuck, then it’s got to be some sort of trick,” Draco reasoned. “No way someone could actually put a second wall here.” He looked the wall up and down with disgust. “Besides, how did someone know where to put it? No one’s supposed to know where our common room is!” 

“Obviously, someone figured it out!” shouted the other boy. 

“What’s going on?” a rough voice asked. Turning around, the boys saw Marcus Flint behind them. 

Draco knew who he was; Marcus Flint was the captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team. Draco already planned on becoming part of the Quidditch team, so he had familiarized himself with the only person important to meeting that end: The captain. 

Of course, the great Harry Potter didn’t need to bother with such things, as he was hand picked by Minerva McGonagall herself. It disgusted Draco to see someone as undeserving as Potter be appointed to the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, despite it being against the rules. That reeked of desperation on the part of McGonagall; indeed, it was just an ill-fated attempt to win the Quidditch and House cups. 

“We’re trapped, Marcus,” the other boy said. 

“What do you mean ‘trapped’, Cassius?” Flint demanded. 

“The wall moved, but someone set up a second wall behind that one,” “Cassius” said. 

“Move!” growled Flint, pulling out his wand. He pointed it at the wall, and shouted “ _Bombarda!_ ” 

There was an explosion around the wall, hurling dust and debris everywhere. As the dust settled, the boys saw that there was a small dent in the wall, but they still couldn’t pass. 

“Looks like we’re stuck here,” Cassius muttered. 

“Quitter,” Draco muttered. “Here’s a mad idea: Why don’t we try that _again_? It obviously did something the first time, so casting it a second time might actually get us out.” 

“Do _you_ know how thick that wall is?” Cassius asked. “No? Didn’t think so! For all we know, it might be twenty feet thick, so we’d be here all day trying to blast it down!” 

“So we just wait here until we starve?” Draco demanded. 

“No, we wait until Professor Snape gets us out,” Cassius shot back. 

* * *

“Where’s Slytherin?” Hermione asked that morning at breakfast. 

Rose just smiled to herself, and turned her attention back to her notebook. 

George and Fred looked at Rose. They knew that look; it was the look of someone who was up to something. 

“Did you have something to do with this?” Fred asked her, glancing over at the noticeably empty table. 

“Of course not,” Rose said, still smiling. “How would I even be able to conjure a large wall right in front of the entrance to the Slytherin Dungeon?” 

“Who said anything about a wall?” asked George. 

Rose’s grin grew broader. 

“No one.” 

Hermione gasped. “Rose, did you trap Slytherin in their own common room?!” 

“Of course not,” Rose said. “And no one can prove otherwise.” 

The Twins exchanged glances, then grinned at Rose. 

“We are _so_ keeping you!” they said together. 

“We’ve never managed that!” 

“And we’ve allegedly pulled some pretty crazy pranks!” 

“I will therefore take your praise as a very flattering complement!” Rose exclaimed, beaming. 

“You what?!” hissed Alex. 

“I haven’t done anything,” Rose replied. “I’ve got nothing to do with that.” 

“For discussion’s sake, let’s say you did,” Hermione said. “Why?” 

“Hippothetically, I–” 

“‘Hypothetically’,” Hermione corrected her. “It’s pronounced ‘hypothetically’.” 

“ _Hypothetically_ , I got bored and the sun didn’t come up for another three hours.” 

“What if you got caught?” Hermione asked. 

“Still speaking hypothetically, I made sure no one was around before doing anything.” 

Hermione fumed silently, but knew that there was nothing she could do about it. Even without the Weasley Twins encouraging her, Rose was self-assured that she was doing the right thing. There was no talking her out of it, but she was going to get caught eventually; Alex said everyone did. 

“Oh, looks like Snape’s going to go find his kiddies,” Fred quipped, seeing the Potions Master storming off out of the Great Hall. 

“How _does_ he get his cloak to billow like that?” Rose asked. “I love it.” 

“How can you be so amazing, yet so fascinated by _Snape_?” George asked. 

“Why do you two always take turns talking?” Rose shot back. 

“Fun,” the two replied in harmony. 

“My best friend is like him,” Rose said. Noticing the looks of confusion they were giving her and Hermione, Rose added, “Not her; my best friend from back home. I wouldn’t have thought we’d be friends, so I think I can be friends with Professor Snape too.” 

Sally-Anne, who was once again listening in on their conversation, wanted to ask Rose if she missed her friend. It sounded like she did, but Sally-Anne wasn’t sure, and she didn’t want to upset Rose or draw attention from the Weasley Twins. What if they harassed her for it? What if they laughed at her? What if they made her feel worse than she already did? 

Given all of that, Sally-Anne kept her mouth shut, and continued to listen, hoping she’d have a chance to speak. 

* * *

Severus approached the Slytherin Dungeon, and found something he wasn’t expecting: someone had erected a 10-foot wall in front of the entrance. Severus pulled out his wand and pointed it at the new wall. 

“ _Reducto!_ ” 

The wall in front of him exploded, turning to rubble. As the dust settled, most of his house ran outside, looking more bitter than usual. Towards the front of the pack was Draco Malfoy. 

“What happened?” Severus demanded. 

“Someone trapped us!” Draco shouted. 

“We couldn’t get out!” added Cassius Warrington. “We tried everything!” 

“All of you get to the Great Hall and get breakfast before classes start,” Severus ordered. “I’ll get to the bottom of this.” 

Severus stepped aside as his entire house swarmed out of their common room. He cast a standard set of analysis charms to determine what sort of spell trapped his students, but to his surprise, he found nothing. There were no traces of magic in the area, besides his own Reductor Curse and a few destruction spells, presumably cast by his trapped students. 

Did the school itself do this? No, there was usually a residual trace of magic when the school reshaped itself. Not only that, but the school rarely reshaped itself this drastically and suddenly. So who did this? Students _shouldn’t_ be capable of casting a spell without leaving a trace; most of the _staff_ couldn’t do that. 

Severus didn’t know a lot about runic magic, but he was fairly certain that runes left some trace. So how had someone done this? 

* * *

As Slytherin House entered the Great Hall, the entire Hall broke out in whispers. 

Draco sat down at the table, grabbing up food while there was still time. 

They had arrived just in time for the mail. As the owls flew over the Great Hall, a letter simply the word “Draco” written on the front was dropped in front of Draco. Opening it, he found that it had only a single sentence: 

_Did you like my surprise, Drakey?_

He looked past the Ravenclaw table at the Gryffindors. Sitting there, grinning back at him, was the only one who _dared_ to call him “Drakey”. 

Draco glared back at the mudblood. She would pay for this. 

* * *

“You think you can get away with that, Mudblood?!” 

Rose and Hermione turned around, and saw Draco Malfoy storming towards them. 

“Which one of us?” Rose asked innocently. “Get away with what, Draco?” 

“Don’t play dumb with me!” he snarled. “I know it was you who trapped me in the Slytherin Dungeon!” 

“You were trapped?!” she gasped, putting her hands over her mouth. “Are you alright?” 

Draco clenched his fists, fuming. 

“You’ll pay for this, mudblood!” he spat. 

“I still don’t know to what you are referring, Draco,” she said. Rose turned around, and began walking away from the Slytherin. 

Hermione gave Malfoy one last look before following her friend. 

Rose knew it was coming. She knew the second she turned her back what Draco would do, so she readied an action. Her suspicions were confirmed by the sudden impulse to duck. 

Rose vanished as a hex was hurled at her. The purple bolt of light lanced through the space once occupied by Rose, and struck an unfortunate Neville Longbottom instead. His entire body froze up, stiff as a board, and he fell over onto the hard stone floor. 

“That wasn’t very nice, Draco,” Rose said as she reappeared. “And not very smart, either. What’s to stop me from going after you now?” 

“You think you’re fast enough, freak?” asked Draco, brandishing his wand. “I bet I can cast a spell before you even draw your wand.” 

“Now, now, Draco, you know I don’t need my wand.” 

Draco and his took mooks leveled their wands at Rose. 

Rose grinned back at them, almost daring them to try something. 

The first-year Hufflepuff and Gryffindor students watched the group, not sure what to do. None of them wanted to get involved in a fight. 

Hermione glanced at Rose. How was she staying so calm? Hermione was glad that for once Malfoy’s attention wasn’t on her, but she was afraid of what might happen if spells started firing. Why hadn’t Rose just reversed gravity like she had a few days ago? 

“What do you think will happen if you fire?” Rose asked the Slytherins. “How long do you think it will be before Professor McGonagall begins to wonder where her class is?” 

Hermione looked from Rose to Malfoy. Malfoy looked like he was ready to unleash everything he had on Rose. Hermione tensed up, preparing for a fight to break out. Malfoy might be a decent shot, but Crabbe and Goyle didn’t look too bright. If they missed, then Hermione would be the first one hit. She began to tremble. How did this keep happening to her? She had always behaved, always done as she was told. The staff should stop this from happening! Where were they? 

“You’ve got a minute left to get to class, Draco,” Rose said. “Do you _really_ want to explain where you were?” 

Draco snarled at her, then lowered his wand. 

Sally-Anne, Hermione, and most of the Hufflepuffs breathed a sigh of relief. It was over; no one was going to get hurt. 

“This isn’t over!” Draco spat. He turned around to leave, his goons following him as he stormed off. 

“If I had a gold piece for every time someone’s told me that,” muttered Rose. 

She produced her wand, then walked over to Neville. She waved her wand, whispering something under her breath. Crouching down, Rose tapped Neville with her wand, and as she did, his body unfroze. 

“Alright, then,” she said, standing up. “We’re off!” 

* * *

Sunday morning, before the sun had peeked up over the horizon, Rose was laying in her bed, staring across the room at her friend. 

For the fifth time that week, Rose had needed to use magic to get Hermione to sleep. 

Hermione was overusing her bracelet, and it was starting to worry Rose. Rose had yet to devise a plan to get Hermione to stop pushing herself so hard, despite Rose’s best efforts. 

“Miss Rose?” 

Rose was snapped out of her thoughts by a familiar voice. She looked around the room and saw Dripty beginning to collect the laundry. 

“Salutations, Dripty!” she whispered. 

“Miss Rose, you is having permission to come visit the House-Elf Dorms.” 

“ _Kethé!_ ” 

“You must be using the normal entrance, though,” Dripty said. “It is being hidden by the statue of Helga Hufflepuff behind the teacher’s table in the Great Hall. You must be tapping the statue three times with your wand to be entering.” 

“Alright,” Rose said, beaming. “I’ll meet you there in a few minutes, Dripty.” 

Rose activated her _Fire Petal Cloak_ , and _dimension doored_ to the Great Hall. 

Dripty stared at the empty spot where Miss Rose had just been. 

“Miss Rose is being a very strange witch,” he said to himself as he finished his task. 

* * *

After a few minutes of searching, Rose found the statue about which Dripty had told her. Across the back wall of the Great Hall, behind the teacher’s table, there were four statues. This one was of a round, plump woman with curly hair and a dress. Despite being made of marble, her eyes seemed to shine. It was Helga Hufflepuff, known for her kindness towards all living things. 

Rose wasn’t sure what was going to happen when she tried tapping it with _Serendipity_ ; if the mechanism required an actual, magical “wand”, then _Serendipity_ would not suffice. Rose tapped the statue three times with _Serendipity_ , and hoped that it would work. 

Sure enough, the statue began to sidle off to Rose’s right, revealing a winding staircase behind it. Rose could have sworn that she heard a quiet jingle in her head when the statue finished moving. 

As she traversed it, Rose understood that the staircase was obviously not made for medium sized creatures, but rather for small creatures. 

Rose climbed the staircase and found a small corridor at the top of it. It looked similar to all the corridors in Hogwarts; built with stone bricks, with torches lining the sides. She crouched down as she walked through the corridor. Even crouching down and being as short as she was, Rose barely fit inside the tiny corridor. Seeing a light at the end of the corridor, Rose figured that was her destination. 

Rose came out in a small common room. The carpet was a shade of deep purple, and tapestries of gold, black and purple were hanging on the walls. There was a fireplace in one wall, and several chairs scattered around the room. 

Shuffling around the room were a bunch of house-elves of all sorts. They each wore towels similar to Dripty’s, but that was where the similarities ended. Some had big ears, some had smaller ears. Some had rough and wrinkled skin, and some had skin that was more smooth. 

They were just like students; some were reading, some were drawing, some were playing cards, and two were even playing chess. But _all_ of them stopped what they were doing when Rose entered the room. They all stared at her in shock. 

“Dripty was being _serious_?” one of them gasped. 

“Salutations!” exclaimed Rose. “My name is Rose Peta-Lorrum! Dripty said it was alright if I came up here!” 

All at once, the house-elves broke into conversation. Some of them ran up to Rose and began to introduce themselves; others were a little more cautious of her. 

“Settle down, everyone!” one of the house-elves said. This one looked older, and from the way the other elves immediately followed her instructions, Rose guessed that this was the “Head Elf” of whom Dripty had spoken. She spoke in an elderly, almost strained voice. Her head was hairless, and her ears and nose a drooped a little more than Dripty’s did. Her towel was a little more regal than the others, and had silvery strands running around its deep violet base. 

“Atrien is being the Head Elf,” the house-elf confirmed. “Dripty is saying that you wanted to meet us elves?” 

“Yes, Ma’am,” Rose said cheerfully. “I’m not from around here, and I like to learn!” 

“Most other witches is not wanting to see us,” Atrien said. 

“I’m not most other witches,” Rose said, grinning. 

“Atrien is seeing that,” Dripty said. “Most other witches is being asleep right now.” 

“I don’t need as much sleep as most people.” Rose looked around the room. “This looks really nice!” 

“You is sounding surprised.” 

“I didn’t know what to expect,” Rose said, looking back at Atrien. “Slavery’s frowned upon in my home.” 

“House-Elves may be considered slaves in some parts,” Atrien said. “But here we is well-treated slaves.” 

There was a quiet CRACK and Dripty appeared at the entrance. 

“Miss Rose!” he shouted. 

“Salutations, Dripty!” 

“Now that you is both being here,” Atrien said sternly. “Atrien must be telling you, Miss Rose, _not_ to be helping the house-elves with chores. They is our chores, and you must be allowing us to do them.” 

“Yes, Ma’am!” Rose said, saluting. 

Atrien eyed Rose. 

“You should be getting back to your bed, Miss Rose,” Atrien said. “You is not wanting to get in trouble.” 

“Right away, Ma’am,” Rose said. She stood up, and curtsied. “It was very nice meeting you all.” 

“Likewise, Miss Rose,” Atrien replied. 

Many of the other house-elves waved to Rose as she left. It wasn’t a long visit, but it served its purpose. Rose could reassure herself and her friends that house-elves were treated with respect and dignity. 

Rose skipped off down the corridors back to Gryffindor Tower. Despite the Artificer’s good mood, she couldn’t help but feel like something bad was about to happen. 

* * *

**Note:** The jingle Rose heard was the puzzle sound from Legend of Zelda. 

There’s a fanfiction of which I am a huge fan called _The Arithmancer_. I’ve never read another fanfiction (although my exposure is somewhat limited) that used the idea of a House-elf common room, and I liked the idea, so I’m using it here. 


	8. Something New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rose gets a headache, and everyone else freaks out about it.

**Disclaimer** No matter how much screaming anyone does, it will not change the fact that J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter. 

* * *

Unbeknownst to Rose, from the moment she erected the wall in front of the Slytherin Common Room, she had been watched. Not by a person, but by the castle itself. Deep within the castle, a consciousness as old as the castle itself began to stir, causing the entire castle to shudder. This went unnoticed by nearly everyone, but there were a few who noticed… 

* * *

The house-elves felt it first through their connection to the castle. Thursday morning, they all felt shivers run down their spines. 

“What is it, Miss Atrien?” one of them asked the Head Elf. 

“Something is being wrong,” Atrien said. “Do not be worried; Atrien will be talking to Headmaster Dumbledore. He will be knowing what to do.” 

Atrien had a deep respect for the current headmaster. She had served under his predecessor, Headmaster Dippet, but she still preferred Dumbledore. He listened to everything Atrien had to say, and always treated the house-elves with respect. Atrien had come to trust that Professor Dumbledore would always have the answers. She hoped he still did. 

* * *

In the Headmaster’s Office, Albus Dumbledore felt something wrong with his castle. There were a lot of secrets known only to the Headmaster, and the subtle signs of the castle in duress was one of them. It was like a shiver ran up through the magical energies of the castle. 

Albus saw the subtle shifting of the magical auras, and took it as a sign of things to come. He had felt something similar when Harry arrived. Things were never going to be the same. 

* * *

A free period was a dangerous thing to give the Weasley Twins. Armed with their Super Secret Map, they were just preparing something for Filch when something unexpected happened. 

“Fred, did you see that?” asked George, pointing to the map. 

“What was it?” his twin asked. 

“The map just blurred out for a moment. Like all the lines had gone wobbly.” 

“‘Wobbly’?” asked Fred, raising an eyebrow. 

“I really don’t have a better word for it.” 

“It’s never done that before.” 

“That’s just what I was thinking.” 

Fred glanced down at the map. 

“Seems fine now.” 

“Yeah,” replied George. “I really hope it stays that way.” 

* * *

In his office, Quirinius Quirrell got a splitting headache as a voice began to rave in his head. 

“ _Something is wrong!_ ” it hissed. 

“I… I do not know what you mean, My Lord.” 

“Silence, fool! I did not ask for your opinion!” 

Quirinius knew what this meant. It meant no sleep for a few days, and a week-long headache. 

* * *

Harry Potter put his hand to his forehead. For an instant there was a sharp pain just above his eyes. It was his scar. He had felt the same pain when he first saw Professor Snape. It was a sign; it had to be. Something bad was going to happen. Harry only wished he knew what. 

Towards the front of Harry’s Transfigurations Class, one girl wasn’t just feeling the disturbance; she was _hearing_ it. 

“ _It has awoken._ ” 

“Hermione, did you say something?” whispered Rose. 

“Shh!” Hermione said. 

“ _It has awoken._ ” 

<Ref, was that you?>

<It was not.>

“ _It has awoken._ ” 

<What is that?>

<I do not know.>

Rose glanced around the room. She was in Transfigurations class, listening to Professor McGonagall explain the intricacies of changing a mouse into a snuffbox. 

“ _It has awoken!_ ” “ _It has awok--_ ” “ _–awoken_ ” “ _It has--_ ” “ _–has awoke--_ ” “ _–s aw--_ ” “ _It has awoken!_ ” 

More voices were joining the first; more and more voices, and they grew louder and louder. It was starting to give her a headache. The noise wasn’t like the dull roar of the Great Hall; it was like a concert, with thousands of excited fans screaming. 

It was beginning to feel as if someone were driving an ax covered in barbs clean through her skull. Slowly. And the ax was on fire. 

Hermione glanced over at Rose, who was slowly beginning to shake her head. Because Professor McGonagall required Rose to remove her goggles when in Transfigurations Class, Hermione could see that Rose’s eyes were squeezed shut. Rose’s lips were squeezed so tightly together they had turned white. 

“Rose,” she whispered. “Are you alright?” 

Rose didn’t reply, but instead pressed her hands to her ears. The sound was becoming unbearable. She couldn’t hear anything else other than the constant wave of noise, which grew louder with every passing second. What could be making noise so loud it felt like her whole head was being ripped apart, but no one else could hear it? Rose couldn’t so much as begin to count how many voices there were; they just kept shouting, almost like they were afraid of something. She assumed that it was the same phrase, but could no longer understand them. 

“Rose?!” gasped Hermione, no longer whispering. 

“Ms. Granger, would you like to add something?” Professor McGonagall asked. She turned to face the girls. When Professor McGonagall noticed Rose, a look of concern crossed her face. “Ms. Peta-Lorrum, what’s the matter?” 

Rose began to tremble. Her entire body was shaking. Tears began falling from her eyes, and she let out muffled sobs. 

“Rose!” Hermione gasped. She didn’t know what to do. What was happening? 

Minerva didn’t know what was happening either, but _she_ knew what to do. She turned to a portrait of an elderly witch wearing a white gown. 

“Fetch Poppy _NOW!_ ” Minerva ordered. 

“Right away, Ma’am!” the portrait’s subject replied, immediately disappearing from the canvas. 

Rose wasn’t even aware that anyone else was talking. She couldn’t hear anything over the voices, even her own voice. Why did it hurt so much? It shouldn’t have hurt this much. It was just noise! And she had damage reduction! Was this some sort of sonic-based attack? This didn’t _feel_ like damage. It felt like _wrack_ , a spell that specifically caused pain. 

Rose’s own thoughts were cut off as the pain became unbearable. She couldn’t concentrate, so she couldn’t even use _Serendipity_ to drop a _silence_ on herself. Her own thoughts were completely blocked out by the noise, and Rose began to cry. 

Unbeknownst to Rose, she wasn’t actually crying. Unable to hear her voice to control it, she had instead started _screaming_. 

The entire class clapped their hands over their ears in order to drown out the cries of their classmate. 

Minerva McGonagall wasted no time. She pulled out her wand and pointed it at the suffering child. 

“ _Quietus Maxima!_ ” 

The crimson-haired girl continued to scream, but no one could hear her. Minerva was going to see to it that this was sorted immediately, but in order to do that, she needed to be able to concentrate. 

Minerva waved her wand at her desk, which immediately turned into a large, wood-brown horse. She hopped up onto the horse, and, with a wave of her wand, she gently levitated the screaming girl onto the horse. 

“If anyone so much as _thinks_ about causing trouble,” she told her students, “ _each_ of you will lose five points and earn a detention!” 

The best way to get Hufflepuffs to stay out of trouble: Group punishment. They took the loyalty thing of theirs to heart, so none of them would dare do something if they knew it would get their housemates in trouble. 

Without the Slytherins there to goad them into doing something foolish, the Gryffindors were much less likely to get into trouble. Especially with the saintly Hufflepuffs there to convince the Gryffindors _not_ to get into trouble. 

The magical horse lept over the awestruck class. With a wave of her wand, Minerva transfigured the entrance of her classroom to make it large enough for her and the horse to pass. 

Every few summers since she had started teaching, Minerva took a holiday out to the countryside, not far from where she had grown up. Whenever she did, she went horseback riding with some locals, even as she grew older. She had rarely had use for it, but it relaxed her, which was vital to the Head of Gryffindor House. She wasn’t sure why, but everything interesting (pronounced “bad”) always seemed to happen to the Gryffindors. 

As she rode her magical desk-horse towards the Hospital Wing, Minerva considered asking Pomona to trade houses with her. This kind of thing just didn’t happen to Hufflepuffs. 

* * *

Poppy Pomfrey wasn’t used to Matron Tressa’s portrait making such a fuss. Matron Tressa was one of several past mediwitches with portraits in the classrooms. It was much faster than a patronus charm in case of an emergency, but it wasn’t often that an emergency severe enough occurred. 

It looked like today was going to be one of those days. Matron Tressa had informed Poppy in no uncertain terms that there was trouble in the Transfigurations Classroom, and Minerva _never_ sent for help unless it was an emergency. Even if it was just another student transfiguring their finger, Poppy wanted to deal with it was quickly as possible. Poppy had immediately taken off towards Minerva’s class, but she only made it part way before being intercepted by Minerva herself. 

The Deputy Headmistress was riding a horse of all things,and accompanying her on that horse was Rose Peta-Lorrum, the little orphan girl they had taken in just over a month ago. The girl was clutching her head, her eyes squeezed shut, tears trickling down her face. Rose’s mouth was open as if she were screaming, but no sound was coming out. 

“I used a Quietening Charm on her,” Minerva explained, seeing Poppy’s confused expression. “She started screaming in the middle of class unprompted.” 

“Well, stop wasting time!” Poppy shouted. “Take her to the Hospital Wing immediately, and get her laying down. I’ll be there shortly.” 

Minerva rode off, vanishing from sight when she rounded a corner. 

Poppy took off in a full sprint, wanting to return to the Hospital Wing as quickly as possible. She arrived a few minutes later to find that Minerva had already laid the girl out on a bed, and was waving her wand over the poor girl. Poppy dashed over to the bed, and began firing off analysis charms. 

Minerva took a step back away from the bed. It was commonly known among the staff that anyone who wanted to keep their limbs intact should not put them close to Poppy when she was like this. 

“Cover your ears,” Poppy instructed Minerva. 

Minerva covered her ears as Poppy waved her wand over the girl. 

“ _Finite Incantatum!_ ” 

The entire Hospital Wing was filled with the girl’s wails. What could be causing this? 

Poppy tuned out the girl’s screams, and continued her barrage of charms. She was just finishing up when all of a sudden, the girl stopped. 

Rose’s hands slowly receded from her head, and she lay in the bed, panting. 

“What happened?” asked Minerva. 

“I’m not sure,” Poppy said. “But now that she’s stopped, you should return to your other students, Minerva. I can take care of her from here.” 

“I know you won’t let me down, Poppy,” Minerva said. Hopping back up on her desk-horse, she rode out of the Hospital Wing. 

Poppy turned back to Rose, who was slowly opening her eyes. 

“Where am I?” she asked, wiping away the tears from her face. 

“You’re in the Hospital Wing, Dear,” replied Poppy in a soothing voice. “Do you know what happened?” 

“I heard a lot of voices,” Rose said, sitting up in her bed. “They were all shouting at me.” 

“But they aren’t anymore?” 

“No.” 

Random shouting voices usually meant a psychotic episode of some sort. Poppy would definitely be discussing this with Albus. If the girl had these fits randomly, then there was no telling what could happen if she were allowed to stay here. As concerned as Poppy was for the girl’s health, she would rather not keep a potentially harmful student in Hogwarts. St. Mungo’s would be able to handle the girl much better than Poppy could. 

“What were you doing before they started shouting?” 

“I don’t remember,” Rose said, rubbing her temples. “Nothing, I think. Professor McGonagall was saying something about turning a mouse into a snuffbox. Then all of a sudden I started hearing voices. They started shouting, and my head felt like it was on fire.” She turned to look at Poppy, and gave a half smile. “Trust me, I know how that feels. But I couldn’t think, I couldn’t hear, I couldn’t concentrate. Then I started crying, and I vaguely remember moving, and then the voices finally stopped.” 

“You weren’t crying, Dear,” Poppy said gently. “You were screaming.” 

“I was?” the girl asked, confused. “I’m sorry, I thought I was just crying.” 

“It’s alright, Dear. You get some rest.” 

* * *

“What happened?” whispered Sally-Anne. 

“I don’t know,” Hermione replied. “Rose just started shaking, then… well, _that_.” 

“I heard she’s mental,” one of the Gryffindor boys said. Hermione couldn’t remember his name at that moment. Sean, or Shane, maybe? She was pretty sure his last name was Finnigan. “Probably just having a fit or something.” 

“Wasn’t she the one that trapped the Slytherins last week?” asked one of the Hufflepuff boys. Justin something? Hermione began to wonder if Rose had the right idea to take notes. 

“No, she didn’t,” Lavender chided. “Seamus is right; Crazy Crimson’s just mental!” 

That was his name! Seamus! Seamus Finnigan! Wait, what did Lavender just call Rose? 

“She couldn’t have done it,” Ronald Weasley said. “I heard that someone actually put a wall in front of their entrance. No way she could do that!” 

“How do _you_ know?” Hermione asked, a little more offensively than she intended. “Are you an expert?” 

Ronald turned to look at Hermione and had the nerve to look shocked. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You don’t know anything about her. How do you know what she can and can’t do?” 

“She’s just a first-year!” Ronald argued. “No first-year could do that!” 

That was probably true, but now Hermione was annoyed. She didn’t have many friends… Actually, Rose was really her only friend, so she certainly wasn’t going to let her own housemates badmouth her! 

“Just because _you_ can’t do something, Ronald, doesn’t mean that _no_ one can.” 

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?!” Ronald shouted. 

“Oi!” 

They turned to look at one of the Hufflepuffs, Maxwell Jones, she was pretty sure. She remembered because his name was simple. 

“You lot heard what Professor McGonagall said. If one of us acts up, we _all_ get in trouble.” 

That got Ronald to settle down for the moment. 

“Harry?” 

Harry looked around for the source of the voice. It was Hannah Abbot, one of the Hufflepuff girls. 

“Are _you_ alright? You’ve been rubbing your forehead for a while now.” 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said. 

“Probably just got a headache from Crazy Crimson’s screaming,” muttered Ron. 

“No, it happened before that,” Harry said, noticing Hermione glaring at Ron. 

Sally-Anne looked around. The Hufflepuffs were all being very nice, but the Gryffindors were being mean. That struck her as odd. She still didn’t understand why the Sorting Hat had stuck her in Gryffindor. It had told her that she could be brave, but she needed some help. She didn’t believe it; she was too timid. 

Sally-Anne and the other students waited quietly for Professor McGonagall to return. Other than Ron whispering something to Harry every so often, things were quiet until their professor rode in on her desk-horse. 

Once their Transfigurations Professor reached the front of the classroom, she dismounted the horse. After transfiguring the horse back into a desk, she looked out at her classroom. 

“I’m glad to see that you have all behaved appropriately,” she said. “One point to each of you.” 

Hermione raised her hand. 

“Ms. Granger, your friend is alright,” Professor McGonagall assured her. “She is in the care of Madame Pomfrey for the moment. You may go and see her after class.” 

Hermione nodded and lowered her hand. 

* * *

After Transfigurations Class, Hermione went straight to the Hospital Wing. Sally-Anne accompanied her, a little curious about what had happened to Rose. 

“Madame Pomfrey, may we please see Rose?” Hermione asked. 

“Only for a few minutes,” Madame Pomfrey replied sternly. 

“Thank you, Ma’am.” 

The girls quickly walked over to where Rose was staying. 

“Salutations, girls!” exclaimed Rose as they approached her bed. 

“Are you alright?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“What happened?” added Hermione. 

“Yes, and a lot of voices were yelling at me.” 

Hermione and Sally-Anne stared at the crimson-haired girl. 

“What do you mean ‘voices’?” asked Hermione. 

“Not sure yet,” Rose replied. “I’ve got a few guesses, but my current best guess is that it was the voices of the bricks in the classroom.” 

The other two girls continued to stare at Rose. 

“Is… is that normal?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“Not even from where I hail,” Rose said. 

“…Scotland?” 

Rose paused for a moment. 

“Yes.” 

“Alright, humoring you for a moment,” Hermione said. “Didn’t you mention that you learned about the Room from the stones?” 

“I did, but they don’t usually talk on their own,” Rose said. “I think it’s because the castle’s sentient.” 

“Why can’t you hear it all the time?” asked Sally-Anne. The timid girl wasn’t sure that she entirely believed Rose, but her parents had always taught her to at least give people a chance. What was the worst that could come of trusting the crimson-haired girl? 

“Dunno.” 

“Maybe it only responds to specific stimuli,” Hermione suggested. “Like something had to happen to get the castle to start shouting.” 

“That’s good thinking, Hermione!” Rose exclaimed. “We should look into this some time!” 

“But for now,” came a voice from behind them, “you two need to get some lunch, and you, Ms. Peta-Lorrum, need to get some rest.” 

“I really don’t,” Rose said. 

Madame Pomfrey glared at Rose, who grinned back at the mediwitch. 

“We’re going to get going,” Hermione said quickly, fearing the wrath of an authority figure. 

“Feel better, Rose,” Sally-Anne said as the two girls exited the Hospital Wing. 

“Thanks!” 

Rose laid back down in her bed and began a staring contest with the ceiling. Despite having lost the last several rounds, she was sure that she would win just as soon as she figured out where it kept its eyes. 

* * *

Albus sat in his office, deep in thought. He knew Tom had a plan. Someone like him didn’t just stay dead, but Albus wasn’t sure what it was yet. He was going to make a run at the Package, but the question was when? Was that what caused the castle to shudder earlier? Was it the presence of the Package, or the presence of Tom? 

Albus’s thoughts were interrupted by a knock on his door. 

“Come in!” 

His door opened, and Minerva and Poppy entered his office. He greeted them with a smile. 

“Albus, we have a problem,” Minerva said. 

“I believe Rose Peta-Lorrum had a psychotic episode,” Poppy said. 

Albus’ cheery smile faded. 

“That _is_ a problem,” he said calmly. “Why do you believe that?” 

“She began to scream in the middle of class,” Minerva said. “Nothing prompted it, but she began to clutch her head.” 

“She told me that there were voices shouting at her,” Poppy said. 

Albus looked at them with what could almost be described as suspicion. 

“When?” 

Both women exchanged glances. 

“It must have been around 11:30,” Minerva said. “Why?” 

“Because at approximately the same time, I sensed a disturbance within the enchantments of the castle,” Albus said, folding his hands in front of him, “and shortly after that, Atrien appeared in my office and informed me that she and the other house-elves had felt the same thing.” 

Minerva and Poppy both stared at the Headmaster. 

“You think Rose Peta-Lorrum reacted to the disturbance?” Poppy asked him. 

“It’s too big of a coincidence to ignore,” Albus said, rising from his chair. 

“Where are you going?” Minerva asked. 

“I would like to speak with Ms. Peta-Lorrum,” he replied, turning to Poppy. “Poppy, is she in a state to accept visitors?” 

“Yes, she settled down almost immediately, but I’ve kept her in the Wing as a precaution. She should be able to return to class tomorrow.” 

“Very good,” he said, making his way to his office door. The two women followed closely behind him. 

* * *

“Rose?” 

Rose looked up from her sketchbook to see Professor Dumbledore entering the Hospital Wing. Having grown tired of losing to the ceiling, she had decided to start drawing instead. 

“Salutations, Professor Dumbledore!” 

“Salutations, Rose,” he replied, smiling. 

Rose grinned back at him. 

“What are you drawing?” he asked her. 

“My brother,” Rose replied. “Last time I was scared, he came and saved me.” 

“I see,” the Headmaster replied, glancing down at the sketchbook. Did her brother have pointed ears? Albus dismissed it for the moment. “I would like to talk to you about what happened today.” 

“Alright,” Rose said cheerfully, putting down her sketchbook. 

“Why don’t you explain what happened?” 

“I was sitting in Transfigurations Class, then I heard a lot of voices shouting at me.” 

“What were they saying?” 

“‘It has awoken.’” 

“Did the voices specify what ‘It’ is?” 

“No,” Rose said, shaking her head. “Or if they did, they did it _after_ they were joined by a thousand other voices all yelling at me.” 

“Hmm,” Dumbledore said, stroking his beard. 

“Does that happen a lot in this plane?” asked Rose. 

“Only at Wizengamot meetings,” Dumbledore said. After seeing the look of confusion on the girl’s face, he added, “The Wizengamot is a sort of wizarding senate.” 

Rose started laughing. 

“I’ll need to remember that one,” she said. “My friend Shadow _hates_ governments. Well, corrupt ones. Point is, I might actually get a laugh out of her.” 

Dumbledore smiled. 

“Rose, do you know what those voices were?” 

“I think they were the bricks.” 

“Why do you think that?” 

“It’s the only reasonable explanation for why there were so many voices, and why they seemed to follow me all the way here.” 

“And you think that ‘The bricks’ is a reasonable explanation?” 

“Of course,” she replied. “I’ve got a persisted _speak with anything_ spell on me.” 

“And that allows you to talk to bricks?” 

“Bricks, metal, water, squirrels, pretty much anything except a dead body,” Rose said. She grinned. “It’s how I found The Room.” 

“The Room?” 

“The hidden room on the seventh floor that becomes whatever you want,” Rose explained. 

“You mean the Room of Requirement?” 

“That’s a good name for it,” Rose replied. 

“I always thought so too,” the Headmaster said. “Returning to our original conversation, couldn’t all of this just have simply been in your head?” 

“No, _mind blank_ stops all mind-affecting effects. Considering that includes the Sorting Hat, it probably also includes most forms of mental assault on this plane.” 

“I see.” 

“Professor, I imagine that, being the head of one of the only three wizarding academies in the continent, you’re quite busy. Why are you personally asking about this?” 

“I take the health of my students very seriously, Rose.” 

“Don’t you trust Madame Pomfrey?” 

“Completely,” the Headmaster reassured her. “I just wanted to hear the story for myself. You know how rumors can spread. In fact, there’s one about you sealing the Slytherin Dungeon a few weeks ago.” 

Rose shrugged. 

“I deny everything!” she exclaimed, grinning. 

“Very well,” Professor Dumbledore said, rising from his place on the bed next to her. “You get some rest, Rose. And please let Professor McGonagall know immediately if this happens again.” 

“Okay!” Rose said. “Professor, can I ask you one more question?” 

“Certainly, Rose.” 

“I know you can’t tell me everything, but there’s something bigger going on here, isn’t there?” 

Albus was a little taken aback, but he had perfect control over his facial expressions. The fact that his magnificent beard covered part of his face helped tremendously. 

“It’s nothing you need to worry about, Rose,” he said as he walked off. 

<That’s a ’yes’,> she told Reflectesalon. <I speak Headmaster pretty well after talking to Sk’lar and Uncle Oz for so long. Especially after Professor Dumbledore told me to tell _Professor McGonagall_ _immediately_. Not ’someone’, not a prefect, not even a staff member. No, Professor McGonagall specifically. And _immediately_. This is a big deal, I just don’t know why yet. > She grinned. <I bet I know how to find out!>

She hopped up out of bed. 

“To the Library!” she shouted, raising her fist. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” asked Madame Pomfrey, who materialized out of nowhere. 

“To my bed!” Rose shouted, her fist still in the air. She spun around and returned to her bed. 

* * *

“I don’t understand what that accomplished, Albus,” Minerva said as the two of them walked back to his office. 

“She isn’t lying,” Albus informed her. “She honestly believes that she heard the voices of the stone bricks of the castle at exactly the same time as Atrien and I felt the disturbance.” 

“How do you know she wasn’t lying?” 

“She’s got a tell, Minerva,” he said. “It’s subtle, and you can’t see it unless you’re looking for it, but it’s there. The girl is a magnificent liar.” 

“Does the girl constitute a threat to the other students?” Minerva asked him. 

“I highly doubt that,” Albus replied, calm as always. “I think she’s just a unique girl. Nothing to worry about. No, I believe our attention should be focused on the cause of this disturbance.” 

“I’m sure you’ve got a theory?” 

Albus turned to look at her, his years apparent on his face. 

“Tom.” 

Minerva sighed. 

_He isn’t your student anymore, Albus._

* * *

Back in the Hospital Wing, Rose attempted to contact her brother to tell him what happened. 

<Sk’lar, are you there? Eom.>

<I can’t talk right now, Rose, I’m in the middle of something. Eom.>

<Okay. Eom.>

Rose realized that it was the middle of the day. All of her friends would be working, so none of them would be able to talk. Except one. 

In addition to the _earpods_ , each of the Exalted had been given two blue seashells. Except for Shadow, each of the Exalted had distributed theirs to different people. Fortunately for her, Sk’lar had given one of his to her sister, Alice, who didn’t have a day job; she was a freelancer, so she picked her own hours. 

Better yet, her big sister always made time for her. 

<Alice, you there? Eom.>

<ROSIE!>

Rose jumped in her bed, then began laughing. 

<Salutations, little sister!> There was a short pause, then, <Oh, right, your protocol thingy. Em.>

<Salutations, big sister!> Rose pathed, smiling. < _Eom_. >

<That’s what I said!> Alice pathed. <How are your adventures in the Rowling Plane, Rosie? Oum.>

Unlike her older brother Sk’lar, people had actually mistaken Alice and Rose for blood relatives. Alice had bubblegum pink hair that she kept in a pair of pigtails and insisted that she act like a child. Rose had picked up several of her… quirks from Alice. 

<Until today, things were going well.>

<What happened? Who do I get to kill? Eon.>

<Well, I was in class, then the stones of the castle started talking to me. Then they started shouting. And then screaming.>

<Are you alright? Meow.>

<I’m okay now, but I apparently started screaming. I thought I was just crying, but I couldn’t hear my voice.>

<That spell you have for talking to stuff; that’s _speak with everything_ , right? Rock.>

<Speak with _anything_ ,> Rose corrected. 

<Right. I thought you had to start the conversation with _speak with anything_. Potato. >

<Normally– Are you just saying the first word that pops into your head?>

<Nope, I’m just saying whatever it is your word is. Banana.>

<Normally, inanimate objects don’t talk without me starting the conversation. I guess since the castle is magical, the stones are intelligent, so they can talk on their own.>

<As long as you’re okay now,> Alice pathed, using her “grown-up” voice. Any attempts at acting like an adult were ruined by her next replacement for “Eom”. <Fopdoodle.>

Rose broke out laughing. 

<I’m…> Rose took a moment to stop laughing. <I’m alright. I’m just a little worried it’s going to happen again, that’s all.>

<This can’t be the first time this has happened,> Alice pathed. < _Stone tell_ is lower level, and it lets you talk to stones. Besides, the Headmaster has to have heard about _speak with anything_. Cacophony. >

<No, he hasn’t,> Rose replied. <He doesn’t know about _mind blank_ either, but Ref can’t read his mind. >

<No offense to Ref, but the save DC on his _detect thoughts_ is pretty low, > Alice pathed. <Maybe he just saved against it. Butterfish.>

<Maybe. I’m not really sure yet. This plane makes no sense.>

<Well, you stay safe, Rosie. The world’s a mean place when your big sis isn’t there to break things that mess with you. Moo.>

< _That’s_ why bad things happen? I thought it was because someone put a curse on me! >

The two girls (They refused to think of themselves as “women”) laughed. 

<I’ll let you get back to whatever it was you were doing, Ali.>

<Take care of yourself, Rose Blossom.>

<You too, Wonder Girl. Rosie out.>

<Ali out.>

Rose smiled. She could always count on her sister to make her feel better. Alice went out of her way to make Rose laugh when she was down in the dumps. 

She laid back in her bed. For better or worse, things had just got a lot more interesting. 

* * *

_Interesting._

The Consciousness looked out through the castle and witnessed the events of the day. It watched the panic it spread in the castle walls affect the strange girl. 

_She can hear my castle. This warrants a more… direct method of research._

The Consciousness set to work making preparations to study its new subject more closely. 

* * *

**Note:** It’s a very subtle shout-out, but as I was writing the conversation between Alice and Rose, it was the late Monty Oum’s birthday. Monty Oum was the creator of RWBY, and as I’ve mentioned before, Rose’s character design was originally based Ruby Rose, the main character of RWBY. So, to honor Monty in a very Rose-ish way, Alice “mistakenly” says “Oum” instead of “Eom”. 


	9. Hermione's Worst Day Ever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hermione has a really bad day.

_Dear Mum and Dad,_

_Not much has changed in the last week. Transfigurations Class still lives up to expectations, and then some. Professor McGonagall is currently teaching us the theory behind transfiguring a mouse into a snuffbox. I’m really excited to keep learning more about it. I’ve already read through the textbook a few times, but Professor McGonagall does a much better job of explaining it than the textbook._

_Charms has also been really exciting. Professor Flitwick says we’re going to begin practicing levitation charms at the end of the month. I’ve already practiced a few times in my room, and I think I’ve almost gotten the hang of it._

_Potions and History have been just as bad and boring, respectively, as ever. Professor Snape eyes Rose suspciously every time we do well on an assignment. I think he thinks she’s cheating for some reason. She’s really good at it, though, but I think she’s just good at everything._

_The only piece of news I’ve really got actually concerns Rose. Thursday, she had some sort of panic attack in the middle of Transfigurations Class. During the lecture, Rose started shaking, and then began to scream. Professor McGonagall took her straight to the Hospital Wing. It was quite amazing, actually, the way Professor McGonagall transfigured her desk into a horse, and rode it straight to the Hospital Wing. The horse lept over the entire class in one bound!_

_I asked Rose about it after class, but she didn’t give me a straight answer. I’m not sure she knows what happened either. As I’m writing this, she’s pacing around our room like a caged animal, muttering to herself a mile a minute. She’s been basically ignoring everything else for the past three days, save maybe her homework. Whatever happened, I think it really bothered her._

_Other than that, things haven’t been going so badly. Alex said that not too long after Hallowe’en, some of the professors hold seminars for their electives. I’m really excited for Arithmancy. It’s like a sort of meta-magic, studying mathematical formulas which all of magic is based on! It uses a lot of maths, so I’m really looking forward to taking it in my third year. Alex said that sometimes professors let students test in early, but Professor Vector (Yes, that’s really her name) rarely accepts students early. I think I’m going to try anyway._

_I haven’t had a run-in with Malfoy in almost two weeks, mostly because I’ve stayed out of the Dungeons. I keep seeing the Weasley Twins scheming with Rose, but so far I haven’t been the target. Rose is pretty nice, in her own strange way, so I don’t think she’s going to do anything too bad to me. I still don’t like their brother, Ronald Weasley, especially after how rude he was towards Rose. He and some of the other students have started calling her ’Crazy Crimson’. I’m starting to worry what everyone calls me behind my back._

_In summary, the classes are mostly really good, and the students are mostly really bad. I’m still not sure about transferring. It’s not so bad right now, but I’ll keep you posted._

_Lots of Love_ , 

_Hermione_

_P.S. Rose says ’Hi’._

At the same time, on the other side of their room, Sally-Anne was also writing her parents a letter. Unlike Hermione, Sally-Anne wrote her parents around once a month, or when something exciting happened; Hermione, however, wrote her parents once a week. 

_Dear Mum and Dad,_

_I’m starting to think that the sorting hat putting me in Gryffindor was a mistake. Everyone’s really pushy, except for Rose, Harry, and Neville. Rose is a little strange and talks a lot, Neville keeps getting himself hurt, and Harry’s really quiet. He seems really nice, even though he’s famous. He was also the only other Gryffindor, apart from Hermione, that wasn’t picking on Rose on Thursday (Neville’s been at St. Mungo’s since Monday). Hermione’s okay, but she’s a bit of a know-it-all._

_Everyone thinks Rose had some sort of fit. She started screaming in the middle of Transfigurations Class, which really startled me. She didn’t say much after I asked her, but she thinks she heard the castle talking to her. I know you’ve both always told me to give people a chance, but I’m not really sure about her. Back home, I wouldn’t have believed that a building could talk, but here, I think anything could probably be possible. Since then, it seems like everyone is making fun of her for it._

_One of the worst is Draco Malfoy, the bully I told you about. He seems really focused on Rose, but she always has a clever response to him. She got him to leave her alone on Friday by joking that last time she had a ~~psycotic~~ psychotic episode, she turned a blonde haired boy into ’giblets’. At least, I hope she was joking. I can’t really tell with her._

_The Hufflepuffs all seem really nice. I’m starting to think that I should have been sorted into Hufflepuff instead. They’ve all been looking out for one another. Alex said that Gryffindors do too, just in their own way. I’m not really sure though. Alex has been really nice, but no one else really is. And the Slytherins hate the Gryffindors for no real reason apart from it’s always been that way._

_I’m trying to tough it out, but it’s still really scary here. It’s not so bad, so long as I’m careful while picking my friends, I guess._

_Love_ , 

_Sally-Anne_

* * *

_Dear Hermione_ , 

_That’s a little concerning about Rose. Do the staff know what happened? We don’t want to worry you, especially because she’s your only friend, but if she’s unstable, then she may not be allowed to continue at Hogwarts. The staff must have some sort of procedures for this. You said in one of your letters that there’s a hospital not too far from Hogwarts, St. Mungo’s. They may have to send her there, so we just want you to be prepared if your friend has to leave._

_We’re glad that you’re having fun in Transfigurations Class. Have you considered forming a study group? The Ravenclaws sound like the “smart” house (except for you, Sweety), but if they keep to themselves as much as you say, then maybe the Gryffindors could use some help. It doesn’t sound like there’s much you can do about Potions, though. You said people complain about Professor Snape all the time. If you start making a list of the complaints, then maybe they can do something about it. Remember, one complaint here or there is an isolated incident; several all at once is a problem._

“That’s what Carolina and Bowie are always saying,” Rose said. She had made a habit of reading Hermione’s mail from across the table at breakfast. Hermione knew that her friend couldn’t actually read her mail from that position. No, in order to know what her parents’ letter was saying, Rose would have to be able to–Hermione sighed internally–read Hermione’s mind. 

“Rose, I’ve asked you not to do that,” Hermione sighed. 

“Why not?” Rose asked, tilting her head the to side. “Am I bothering you?” 

“Yes! What my parents say is private!” 

“Ref doesn’t tell me everything, just the interesting bits.” 

“He shouldn’t be telling you _any_ of the bits!” Hermione said, getting annoyed. “Neither you nor your imaginary friend should be reading my mail!” 

Fred and George, who had taken to sitting with Hermione and, specifically, Rose, snickered. 

Hermione didn’t mind them laughing at something obvious. It was when the two of them began laughing for no apparent reason that worried her. Especially after whispering to one another; that was a clear sign that they were up to no good. Hermione just had to hope that she wasn’t the target. When they had switched her hair for Rose’s, it had freaked her out. At the time, Hermione had still been going through what she was sure was culture shock. She had still been adjusting to the fact that magic was real, people here were a little odd (or in Rose’s case, _very_ odd), and she hadn’t been sleeping well. Well, she _still_ wasn’t sleeping particularly well, but she was doing better! 

“You are doing a lot better!” exclaimed Rose. 

“Please, _stop_ reading my mind!” Hermione shouted. 

Rose didn’t say a word, but tapped her finger to her clasp twice. Hermione had begun to suspect that Rose’s _reflective_ , rose-shaped clasp was “Reflectesalon”. When Hermione thought about it from Rose’s perspective, or what she suspected was Rose’s perspective, it made sense, actually. 

Hermione suppressed a shudder. Very little Rose said made sense at all, so when something Rose said made sense to Hermione, she worried that she was starting to lose it. 

“What did that do?” Hermione asked. 

“It’s a sort of confirmation,” Rose explained. “I told Ref to stop relaying your thoughts to me. He won’t actually do it unless I tap him twice. It’s a contingency against me being possessed.” 

“Does that come up a lot?” asked Hermione. 

“Not since I started using _mind blank_.” 

Hermione stared at Rose. Rose grinned back at Hermione. After almost a minute, without saying another word, Hermione went back to her parents’ letter. 

_We’re glad to hear that there might be a maths class for you. It’s a little strange that wizards and witches don’t all use maths. If you’d like, we’ll send some of your maths books with our next letter._

_Hang in there, Sweety. Don’t worry about the other students; they’ll come around eventually. Tell Rose we say ’hi’ back, and both you girls keep up the good work. If anyone can get by in a strange world, it’s you._

_Love_ , 

_Mum and Dad_

Hermione smiled. It was nice knowing that no matter how bad things got here, her parents were looking out for her. 

“Everything alright?” asked Rose. 

“Yeah,” Hermione replied, still smiling. “Mum and Dad say ‘Hi, and keep up the good work’.” 

Rose beamed. 

* * *

_Dear Mum and Dad,_

_I’m starting to become scared to go to class alone. I keep looking over my ~~sholder~~ shoulder, expecting Malfoy to pop up behind me. He’s become so fixated on Rose, like he wants pay back, or revenge. Even when I’m not with her, I catch him watching me, glaring at me. I don’t think not being around Rose would even help anymore. Malfoy comes by our table every few days, makes some comment, and walks off. He keeps calling me ’mudblood’, which is a sort of racial slur for Muggle-borns. I don’t know why the teachers don’t do anything about him._

_I’ve tried talking to Professor McGonagall about it, but she says there’s nothing she can do unless Malfoy’s caught in the act. He hasn’t backed me into a corner after the first time, but I think that’s because he’s actually afraid of Rose. I’m worried that if she has to leave, then he’ll start coming after me again._

_Rose has been alright so far. She hasn’t had another incident like last week, and she and Sally-Anne, the really shy girl, thought that a study group would be a good idea. I think Harry liked the idea too, but it was hard to hear him over Ronald, who made it abundantly clear that he wanted nothing to do with a study group. So it’s just been us three studying in our rooms. Lavender and Parvati don’t seem concerned about ~~trasnfigurations~~ transfigurations, so they ignore us when we study._

_Lots of Love_ , 

_Hermione_

* * *

_Dear Mum and Dad,_

_I want to go home. I can’t ~~rember~~ remember the last time I got a full night’s ~~slep~~ sleep. Malfoy’s comments keep getting worse, and he snatched your last letter away while I was reading it on the way to class. I don’t know what to do._

_I keep having these awful dreams about Malfoy, or Snape, or that dog on the thirdfloor. Why is it even here?! Is Dumbldore mad?! Something like this would never happen at home. All I can think about is that it’s be better at home with both of you. I just want to go home. I want to run away and crawl into bed and never come back._

_~~From~~ Love_

_Hermione_

* * *

Sally-Anne descended the stairs Sunday morning. She was excited about Hallowe’en that Thursday. Hallowe’en was a chance to dress up and pretend she was someone else. Something about the idea of pretending she was a knight, or a princess, or a superhero was always wonderful to her. 

“Salutations, Sally-Anne!” Rose exclaimed as the dirty-blonde girl reached their common room. 

“Good morning, Rose,” Sally-Anne said softly. “Did you sleep alright?” 

“Yup!” Rose exclaimed. “I got my full two hours!” 

Sally-Anne blinked a few times. 

“Don’t you need more than that?” 

“Nope!” 

“Oh.” 

“So how are you doing this fine morning?” Rose asked. 

“I’m alright,” Sally-Anne replied, rubbing her eyes. “Still a little sleepy, I guess.” 

“Okay,” Rose said. A thought occurred to her. “Hey, Sally-Anne, Hermione and I are exploring more of the castle today. Would you care to join us?” 

“I’d love to,” Sally-Anne replied, smiling a little, “if it’s not too much trouble.” 

After breakfast, the three of them tried exploring the Dungeons again, and, as luck would have it, ran into Malfoy. 

“Well, well,” he sneered. “I’m surprised to see that you’re still here, mudblood.” 

“You see us every day at meals, Draco,” Rose said, “and every Friday at Potions, and every Thursday during Flight Class. Why are you surprised to see any of us? Is your brain turned off because it’s Sunday?” 

“And I see the two mudbloods have made a new friend,” Malfoy drawled on, ignoring Rose. He sneered at Sally-Anne, who backed up a step. Malfoy chuckled. 

“Why is it that every time we’re in the Dungeons we run into you?” Rose asked. “Are you three the only three Slytherins in Hogwarts? If so, who are those other people I’ve seen wearing Slytherin crests on their robes? More minions? Followers? Are you even high enough level to have Leadership? I mean, Harry having a cohort is one thing, and Croyle and Gabbe _might_ count as two cohorts, but I think you need the actual feat to have followers.” 

“And the freak,” Malfoy said, glaring at Rose. “I thought they’d have kicked you out by now.” 

“Why? Because I make you look bad?” Rose said. She smiled. “Is that why you’ve been following me, Drakey?” 

“I’m not–” 

“Or are you just in wove?” Rose teased. “I hate to break it to you, Drakey, but my heart belongs to someone else.” 

Malfoy flushed as Hermione and Sally-Anne snickered. The girls had to admit, Rose was good at this. 

Malfoy glared at Rose with hatred in his eyes and clenched his fists. “You–” 

Rose vanished and appeared two feet in front of Malfoy, rose petals fluttering to the ground where Rose once stood. Startled, Malfoy jumped back. 

“I haven’t got the patience for you today, Draco,” Rose said quietly. “So you insult me all you like; I assure you I’ve been called worse than any insult that your tiny mind can conjure. Any curse or hex you try will fade, _if_ you can cast it. So why don’t you just run along, little Slytherin?” 

Malfoy glared at Rose. 

Rose glared back at Malfoy through her goggles. 

“Run. Along. Draco.” 

Malfoy snarled at Rose again, then shoved past her. Rose watched the three boys walk off, readying an action to turn the boys to stone if they so much as twitched. 

“You know boys,” Malfoy said loudly. “It’s a shame that Hogwarts is so unaccepting of mudbloods! I’ve even heard that some students failed because of it!” 

Rose continued to glower at them as they walked off. After the boys left, she glanced over at her friends. “You two alright?” 

“Yes,” Hermione said quietly. 

Sally-Anne nodded. “Are you?” she asked quietly. 

“Yeah,” Rose said, still glaring. “At my old school, there was this student named He’la Kal’ah. He was just as bad as Draco, if not worse. He made it his personal goal in life to make _my_ life as miserable as possible. I just don’t like seeing someone do that to other people.” 

“I understand,” Hermione said, nodding. “People have picked on me all my life, making fun of my teeth, my hair, anything they could really. My parents always said it was because I was smarter than they were.” 

Rose grinned, then pulled out her notebook and started flipping through it. She flipped to the first few pages of her book, and began to read from it in a British accent. 

“ _They laugh at us because they’re afraid of how smart we are; they’re afraid of us, so they want us to be afraid of them. The only way to conquer it is to not be afraid._ ” 

Hermione and Sally-Anne both stared at her. Rose smiled back at them. 

“Who said that?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“My brother, Sk’lar.” Rose put away her notebook. “He told me that not too long after we first met.” 

“Why did you write it down?” 

“I write down a lot of the stuff my family says,” Rose said. “My uncle, my brother, my sister… they say a lot of things I think are worth writing down.” 

“Oh,” Sally-Anne said as the girls started walking again. 

“What about you, Sally-Anne?” asked Hermione. “You’re Muggle-born too, right?” 

“Yeah. I’ve always been nervous around other people, so I’ve never had many friends.” 

“That’s okay,” Rose said, putting her arms around both girls. “We’re your friends now! Quality over quantity, I always say!” 

Hermione looked down at her feet. 

“I…” 

“Hermione, what’s wrong?” Sally-Anne asked. 

Hermione didn’t say another word, but began to run back the way they came. 

“Hermione!” Sally-Anne called after her. She started to chase after Hermione, but something caught her wrist. Sally-Anne looked behind her, and saw Rose staring back at her. 

“Let her be,” Rose said, slowly shaking her head. “Let’s get you back to Gryffindor Tower. I’ll make sure she’s alright.” 

* * *

Hermione ran. She didn’t look back, she just ran and ran until she couldn’t anymore. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t hold back the tears. Her sight went blurry as she ran, but she kept going until she was well out of the Dungeons. Hermione just wanted to be alone, and she knew the perfect place to go. 

She ran by students as she climbed seven flights of stairs. She ran from the bottom of the castle to the top, but the adrenaline coursing through her body made her ignorant to the pain. It wasn’t until Hermione got to the Room of Requirement that she started to feel the burning in her lungs. She walked past the wall three times, tears streaming down her face. 

_I need a place to hide._

She coughed and spluttered, gasping for breath as she paced back and forth along the hallway. 

_I need a place to hide._

Rose knew where to find the Room of Requirement, but Hermione also knew that Rose could find her anywhere in the castle. If Rose was going to find her, she’d already be there. That meant that Rose was leaving Hermione alone. 

_I need a place to hide._

As she passed by the specific spot on the wall, the door appeared in front of her. She quickly pulled it open and ran inside, letting the door slam behind her. 

The Room had become an exact replica of her room at home. Her blue sheets on the single bed. A bookshelf on one wall, although there were fewer books on it. It was just like home. 

Hermione ran over to the bed and flung herself on it, sobbing into her pillow. 

When Hermione had found out that she was a witch, she had been so excited. She had wanted to start using magic straight away. Hermione practiced as much as she could, but it seemed like everyone else was ahead of her. She was getting so absorbed by trying to learn everything that she had just shut out everything and everyone else. As a result, her only friends, if one could call Sally-Anne and Rose her friends, had no idea she was going to be leaving. 

_Go crying home to mummy and daddy, mudblood_. 

As if it wasn’t hard enough having no close friends, she had made herself the target of one of the worst bullies at school. Malfoy was right; Hermione didn’t belong at Hogwarts. All Hermione wanted to do was to go home; she just wanted to go home. 

For hours, Hermione just laid there and cried. She cried and cried until her stomach hurt from sobbing so hard. She sobbed because she had been given the most wonderful gift, but she would never be able to use it. It was like some sort of Greek Tragedy. 

_I’ve even heard that some students failed because of it!_

Everything was falling apart. Maybe Malfoy was right; maybe Hermione should just transfer to Beauxbatons. Sure it was in France, but she was fluent enough in French to get by. 

_I can’t do this anymore._

Hermione realized that she could try transferring, but the problem would just end up being the same. She couldn’t make friends. Sure, she was just about as timid as Sally-Anne, and as smart as Rose, but she couldn’t relate to either girl. 

She would never be able to make it at a school like this; she would never be able to learn to use magic. 

Hermione didn’t know how long she stayed in the Room of Requirement. She wanted to hide away forever, far away from everything and everyone. 

“Hermione.” 

She sat up in her bed and faced Rose. 

“How did you find me?” 

“I figured out that you can find another person in the room so long as you know the type of room into which they went.” 

Hermione didn’t care. She didn’t care how clever Rose was, and certainly didn’t want to listen to her showing off again. It didn’t matter anymore. She’d just be another memory of Hogwarts before long. 

“Go away, Rose.” 

“I was like you at my old school,” Rose said without a trace of her usual enthusiasm. “People didn’t like that I was cleverer than they were, so they hurt me. I would’ve left if I could’ve, but my parents were gone.” 

“But I can,” Hermione said. “I’ve got options. I don’t have to stay here, and I don’t really want to anymore. I’m going to ask my parents for a transfer to Beauxbatons.” 

“I know,” Rose said, the faintest hint of sadness on her face. “I know because that’s exactly what I would’ve done. If I had the option, if I had family, I would’ve run away. But you aren’t transferring yet, right?” 

“No,” Hermione mumbled. “I talked to Alex about it, and she said to give it a week.” 

“Then we’re still friends until then,” Rose said. “And even after you leave, I can still write to you.” 

“Why?” asked Hermione. “You hardly even know me.” 

“But you were my first friend here, Hermione. And I think you’re going to need help no matter where you go, so I’m right here. I’m always here for you, Hermione.” 

Rose stood up, and offered her hand to Hermione. 

Hermione hesitantly took the hand offered to her and allowed herself to be pulled out of bed. 

“Here,” Rose said, pressing a blue conch shell into Hermione’s hand. “If you ever need anything, just hold it, concentrate on me, and think.” 

Hermione took the seashell from her friend, and nodded her understanding. 

* * *

Thursday rolled around, bringing about some sort of holiday. Hallow’s Eve, or something like that. Rose hadn’t been paying attention, and she didn’t feel like flipping through her notebook at that very moment to see what it was. Like everything else, she had written it down. In addition to that, something else had caught her attention. 

“ _It is moving!_ ” 

_BANG!_

Rose slammed her head on the table, causing Sally-Anne, Hermione, and several other Gryffindors seated near them to jump. 

“Rose, are you alright?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“I am _not_ in the mood for this!” Rose mumbled, her face still planted firmly in the table. 

“Rose?” Sally-Anne asked again. 

“I’ll probably be in the Hospital Wing,” Rose sighed, getting up from the table. “Don’t wait up for me for Flight Class.” 

“ _It is alive!_ ” 

“I heard you the first time!” Rose shouted at the ceiling. 

She walked over to the Teachers’ Table, to where Professor McGonagall was sitting. 

“ _It lives!_ ” “ _–alive!_ ” “ _–moving!_ ” 

“Professor McGonagall, as instructed, I am informing you that it’s happening again.” 

Rose flinched as the noise began to grow louder. It didn’t feel the same as it did last time, so that was a plus. 

“Right, let’s get you to the Hospital Wing before it gets any worse,” Professor McGonagall said, sighing a little. 

“Don’t worry, Minerva,” Professor Dumbledore spoke up from his position at the center of the table. “I’ll take the young lady.” 

Despite the ringing in her ears as the sound grew louder, Rose still smiled. Her parents and Uncle Oz were the only three people who ever referred to her as a “young lady”. Mostly because the only ladylike thing about her was her dress. 

Professor Dumbledore arose from his seat, and the two of them walked out of the Great Hall through a side entrance. 

“What are they saying now?” asked Dumbledore. 

“‘It lives’, ‘It’s alive’, ‘It’s moving’.” 

“Am I to assume that they are once again not elaborating on what ‘It’ is?” 

“No,” Rose replied. “Professor Dumbledore, is there somewhere I can learn the theory behind magic?” 

“That’s quite a broad topic, Rose. What did you have in mind?” 

“It’s just that this shouldn’t even be happening,” Rose replied, producing _Serendipity_. Rose winced again, and figured she should really get moving with her spell. 

“ _Deafness!_ ” 

Rose panicked for a second when all sound cut out, but was relieved to hear Reflectesalon’s voice in her head. 

“What was that?” the Headmaster asked. She couldn’t hear him exactly, but Reflectesalon relayed all words in real time to her through their bond. 

“I just deafened myself, Sir, before it got too bad,” Rose replied. “Ref, who _can’t_ understand the castle, is currently functioning as my ears.” 

“Ref?” 

“Reflectesalon!” Rose exclaimed, grinning. “My imaginary friend!” 

“Of course,” Albus said thoughtfully. That wasn’t the _strangest_ thing he had ever heard. Besides which, whatever it was that the girl had done, it certainly worked. She was no longer exhibiting the symptoms of pain she had been moments ago. 

“ _Speak with anything_ should require that the stones be prompted by me before responding. Which makes me wonder how it is that they’re able to do this. I don’t really recognize the magic of the castle, so I would like to read more about it to figure out how the two will interact.” 

“Then you’ll probably want to look into Arithmancy,” Professor Dumbledore replied. “It seeks to explain exactly that, in terms of maths.” 

“Hermione was saying something about that, I think,” Rose said. “She sounded really excited about it. Is there a class here for that?” 

“There is, but it’s one of the third year electives, which means you’ll have to wait until your third year. On occasion, professors will let students test in early, however.” 

“Okay!” Rose said. She had more questions, but conversations through Reflectesalon were difficult, so she just wrote down whatever questions she had for later. 

* * *

On Hallowe’en night, Hogwarts always had a large feast. Hermione didn’t think that Hallowe’en was anything to celebrate, especially with her most likely leaving in a few days, but a feast was a feast. 

She and Sally-Anne were on their way to the Hospital Wing to fetch Rose. Despite the crimson-haired girl not eating, Sally-Anne thought it would be nice to have her around. 

“It’s better with her around,” Sally-Anne was saying. “A little less… scary.” 

“I know what you mean,” Hermione said. “I feel like no matter where we turn, Malfoy’s always–” 

“Always what?” 

_Right there behind me._

“Where’s your pet, Mudblood? Has she gone mad again?” 

Hermione and Sally-Anne kept walking, picking up their pace a little. At least Malfoy hadn’t decided to get in front of them. 

Hermione realized why Malfoy had positioned himself behind them when she felt her legs stop working. They froze up right under her, and she fell flat on her face. 

Sally-Anne turned around and saw Malfoy with his wand out, pointed at the spot where Hermione had once stood. It was a leg-locker curse. Malfoy had struck Hermione in the back with a leg-locker curse. 

“Much better,” Malfoy sneered. “Not so tough without the Freak here to interfere, are you, mudbloods?” 

Sally-Anne didn’t know what to do. She wanted to run away and hide, but she couldn’t just leave Hermione here. So, Sally-Anne did the only thing that popped into her mind. 

“B-b-back o-o-off, M-malfoy,” she stammered, stepping between Hermione and Malfoy. 

“O-o-or what?” Malfoy mocked her. “What are _you_ gonna do, mudblood?” 

_They laugh at us because they’re afraid of how smart we are; they’re afraid of us, so they want us to be afraid of them. The only way to conquer it is to not be afraid._

“N-no mat-matter what you d-do,” Sally-Anne said, tears forming in her eyes. “She’ll s-s-s-still be s-s-smart-ter than y-you.” 

_That_ struck a nerve. Malfoy glared at her. 

“Neither of you _mudbloods_ are better than _me_!” he spat, pointing his wand at Sally-Anne. 

She grabbed her wand from her pocket, but Malfoy was too quick. 

He raised his wand to cast a spell, but then stopped. A look of horror crossed Malfoy’s face. 

That was when the girls smelled it. It was a foul stench, like something had died, come back to life, rolled around in guano, then died _again_ , decomposed for a few weeks, then started walking about. 

Sally-Anne covered her nose with her free hand and turned around to face the source of the odor. 

It was at least ten feet tall, if not taller. It was big enough to make Hagrid, the giant of a grounds’ keeper, look _normal_. The large creature before them was covered in rough, gray skin, like that of an elephant’s or a rhinoceros’. Its limbs were like tree trunks, and in one of its gorilla fists it held a massive, wooden club. There was a vacant look on its almost Human face. 

Sally-Anne didn’t immediately recognize it, but Hermione did. She had read about them in _Magical Beasts and Where to Find Them_. It was a mountain troll. 

The girls screamed when they saw it, but another sound drowned them out. 

In a moment that both girls would come to treasure, Malfoy let out the most undignified shriek either girl had ever heard. Malfoy and his goons bolted off back the way they came, leaving Hermione and Sally-Anne to face the troll alone. 

Sally-Anne couldn’t run, for fear of leaving Hermione alone, and Hermione couldn’t run because of Malfoy’s curse. 

Tears welled up in Hermione’s eyes. This was it. They were going to die. 

The troll lifted its club. 


	10. Rose's Best Day Ever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rose has a really good day.

**Disclaimer** J.K. Rowling owns the troll, but _I_ own its new friend. 

* * *

Trock was a simple troll, who enjoyed simple pleasures. He liked to smash things, and watch them explode when he smashed them. Rocks were a lot of fun to smash, but Humans were even better. They just blew apart into little bits when he smashed them with his club. Afterwards, you could just pick up the little bits left behind and plop them in your mouth. Smashed Humans tasted really good. 

But now Trock’s head hurt a lot after the Purple Head Man zapped Trock with his funny Human magic. Trock was looking forward to smashing the Purple Head Man’s purple head. Would it explode purple? Trock hoped so; that sounded cool. 

For the moment, all Trock had were these two Humans in front of him, and he was hungry. Maybe after he smashed them, he could help himself to a small snack. Trock liked that idea, so he lifted his club to smash them. 

* * *

Sally-Anne’s brain finally started functioning, and she began to move. She grabbed Hermione, and, with a burst of strength she never would have guessed she had, dragged the other Gryffindor out of the way of the troll’s club. 

The club crashed into the floor where they had been less than a second ago, sending rubble flying everywhere. A cloud of dust and debris exploded from the point of impact. 

Hermione quickly covered her face to lessen the damage and keep dust out of her eyes, but that didn’t stop her from getting hit with what was effectively shrapnel. Chunks of rock went flying past her face, buffeting her hands and getting caught in her hair. Despite everything else that was going on, Hermione groaned a little. It was a _nightmare_ getting _anything_ out of her hair. She shoved that to the back of her mind for the moment. Survival first, annoyingly bushy hair later. If they survived. 

_If_. Why was there even an ’if’? This was a _school_! Not even some sort of military school, a regular, magical school! There shouldn’t have even been a question about whether they would survive! If creatures this dangerous existed, why was the school not protected?! Was it protected? Had the protections failed somehow? What was going on?! 

The other Gryffindor was just as panicked as Hermione, but Sally-Anne was finding it in herself to keep moving. Unfortunately, she was not as quick as Hermione, mostly due to the dirty-blonde trying to drag Hermione across the floor. Dust flew into Sally-Anne’s eyes, temporarily blinding her. She instinctively brought one hand to her face, trying to get the dust out of her eyes. Even as she cleared her eyes, she tried to keep moving Hermione across the floor, a feat that was much more difficult with only one hand. 

When Sally-Anne’s sight finally returned to her, and thus freeing up her other hand, she put Hermione’s right arm over her back, and tried to hoist Hermione up off the floor. As her luck would have it, Sally-Anne’s legs weren’t strong enough to carry both of them. 

When Hermione realized what Sally-Anne was trying to do, she tried to get her own legs to help. Unfortunately, due to Malfoy’s curse, Hermione couldn’t get her legs in a position where they could support her body. By the time the girls realized that their plan wasn’t going to work, it was too late. The troll was upon them. 

It swung its club again, falling just short of the two girls. The ground exploded around them again, sending both girls sprawling. Sally-Anne looked up, and saw the troll raising its club again. She tried again to pick up Hermione, but it was no use. Sally-Anne couldn’t get away without leaving Hermione defenceless, and she couldn’t think of any spells that she could actually use. 

Hermione frantically felt around her for anything she could use. There weren’t any good sized chunks of rubble near her, and her brain didn’t want to work. _She_ could think of over a dozen different spells, but none of them would even phase a _mountain troll_. Hermione frantically went through her pockets for _anything_. She had a few pencils, her wand, and… what was that? Her hand closed around something small, and after a second she realized what it was. 

It was the seashell that Rose had given her earlier that week. Hermione had kept it on her person, just in case. She wasn’t sure that it would work, but with the success that she had had with the bracelet, she figured that she might as well keep it with her. 

_If you ever need anything, just hold it, concentrate on me, and think._

Hermione grasped the blue seashell as tightly as she could, squeezed her eyes shut, and concentrated on Rose. She envisioned the crimson-haired girl standing up to Malfoy when Hermione had been trapped in the Dungeons. Rose wasn’t afraid of anything. 

The troll raised its club again. 

<Help us!>

* * *

“Troooooolll!” 

Everyone in the Great Hall stopped eating and looked up at the blonde boy running into the Great Hall. The normally calm Slytherin looked absolutely terrified. A few Gryffindors snickered at seeing the smug Slytherin so distraught. Among them, three of the four Weasleys at Hogwarts. 

“Troll in the castle!” 

“He isn’t serious, is he?” whispered Harry to Ron. 

“Nah, it’s probably just some prank,” Ron replied, eyeing Malfoy as he ran straight to the front of the Hall. 

“Shh!” hissed both Alex and Percy from down the table. 

Draco panted as he stopped in front of the Teachers’ Table. 

“Mr. Malfoy, if this is some sort of a joke,” Professor McGonagall began. 

“No… joke,” he panted. The look on his face said it all; there was no way an eleven-year-old could fake being _that_ terrified. “There’s… a… troll.” 

“Where?!” demanded Professor Snape. 

“It’s…” 

Draco pointed behind him. He was starting to feel faint. Wait, where were Crabbe and Goyle? Wasn’t one of their jobs to catch him if he passed out? Oh, right, they tripped somewhere on the way to the Great Hall. Lazy gits. And why was the room spinning? When his father heard about this… 

There were a few seconds of eerie silence as Malfoy collapsed. Once it sank in that there was a _troll_ in the castle, the entire Hall erupted into noise. Students began panicking, prefects called for their students to calm down, but one voice was heard over the chaos. 

“SILENCE!” 

A clap of thunder accompanied the booming voice, and the ceiling, which was once covered in a black, starlit sky, became enveloped in dark storm clouds. 

Everyone looked up towards the teacher’s table, where Albus Dumbledore had risen to his feet. He looked _furious_. Harry had seen his Uncle Vernon when he was angry, something that happened frequently. It was a little funny, the shades of red that his uncle took on when he was angry. Harry had made the mistake of laughing at him once. 

Once. 

But this was _nothing_ like Uncle Vernon. One look at the storm clouds on the ceiling and everyone knew that it was time to close their mouths and open their ears. 

“Prefects, escort your students back to your common rooms!” he ordered. “No one is to leave until the all-clear is sounded! Anyone caught outside of their rooms before that will receive a 50 point penalty and a month of detention! Staff, with me!” 

He stepped down from his place and began to move, with or without his staff. Albus had at least one contingency for any type of attack. He had spent whole summers coming up with different possible attacks on his school and different ways of counteracting them. 

“Atrien!” 

A loud POP was heard, and the Head Elf appeared beside the Headmaster. 

“Yes, Headmaster? You is calling Atrien?” 

“Atrien, give warning to all house-elves that there is a troll somewhere in the castle. All house-elves are to drop what they’re doing and find it. If any of them come across a student not in their rooms, I want to know about it that second, unless that student is in danger. If that’s the case, get the student out of harm’s way, then tell me about it.” 

“Yes, Sir!” 

As Atrien vanished with a CRACK, Albus turned to his staff. 

“Each of you, spread out and search the castle. Find the troll, and alert the portraits to its location. If you see a house-elf afterwards, inform them as well. Students are to be kept away from it, and it must be contained.” He turned to Septima Vector and Bathsheda Babbling. “Septima, Bathsheda, go and check the wards. If one troll got in, then it’s possible that there could be more. Verify that the wards are secured, and report back to me.” 

Both women nodded and sped off towards the Main Hall. As the Arithmancy and Ancient Runes Professors, Albus knew he could count on Septima and Bathsheda to find any problems with their defences. Not only that, but between the two women, they could easily come up with several clever solutions to the problem. 

“Albus, the Package!” Severus exclaimed. 

_Speaking of clever solutions._

“Go! Make sure it’s safe, then check the rest of the third floor!” 

Severus ran off towards the third floor. 

Albus watched his staff disperse, then made his way through the ground floor. With the sole exception of his Defence Professor, each member of his staff was hand picked by Albus because they were the best in their field, and their first priority was their students. 

Even Severus, with his constant glowering and sourness (Heh, Sour Severus. Albus would have to remember that one), held his students’ safety in high regards. He just _really_ hated Gryffindors. Not all that surprising, considering that a particularly troublesome group of Gryffindors had nearly killed Severus while they had all been in attendance at Hogwarts. 

Albus continued to scan the ground floor. Nothing, not even Voldemort himself, would harm _his_ students. 

* * *

When the ground started shaking, Poppy Pomfrey immediately looked around for the source of it. Earthquakes weren’t unheard of in the area, but the structure of Hogwarts neutralized them, so no one would ever feel them. That meant whatever was happening was coming from _inside_ the castle. 

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum, are you alright?” Poppy asked her solitary charge. 

“I’m okay,” the crimson-haired girl said from her bed. “Does the ground shake like that a lot?” 

“No,” Poppy replied. “It doesn’t.” 

Poppy approached the door, and could’ve sworn she heard something down the hallway. When the ground shook again, she was certain she could hear rocks being smashed. 

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum, I think we should–” she began, but saw that the Gryffindor girl was gone. 

Poppy looked around the Hospital Wing, but it wasn’t that easy to hide. She checked under the beds, but saw no one. 

“Where’d she go?” she asked the empty room. 

* * *

The tears got worse in Hermione’s eyes. It had been a bad week. It had been a bad _month_. If she survived this (There was that ’if’ again), then she was going to transfer. No doubt about it anymore. She was going to tell her parents to get the paperwork for Beauxbatons started _tonight_. _If_ she survived. Would she ever see them again? Would her parents ever even know what happened to her? Or would their last memory of her be a letter informing them how horrible Hogwarts was becoming? 

Even worse was the fact that the last thing Hermione would ever see was this troll. Not her mum or her dad, but this large, gray-skinned monstrosity. It was going to kill her, and she couldn’t so much as try to run away. She was fairly certain she had had nightmares about this as a little girl. Hermione wasn’t entirely convinced that she wasn’t about to wake up, and find that this whole thing had been one long nightmare. 

Maybe she would. Maybe she would wake up to find that there was no such thing as Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, and that she was just a normal girl. 

The troll swung its club down on the two girls. 

Both girls squeezed their eyes shut and waited for the end. Sally-Anne held Hermione’s hand in an effort to comfort herself, a sentiment which Hermione reciprocated. It was better than dying alone. 

THUNK! 

Not feeling a sensation of pain, and being distinctly not dead, Hermione slowly opened one of her eyes. When Hermione saw what had stopped the club, she opened the other one. 

Standing in front of them was Rose, her hood pulled over her head. Her cloak flapped in a non-existent wind; small licks of flame flew off of the end of it. Rose had a firm grasp on the business end of the club with her left hand. It didn’t even look like she was _trying_. 

“Rose?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“I just can’t leave you two alone for even a round, can I?” asked Rose. “PCs, always getting themselves into trouble. And then it’s all ‘Save me, Ms. Super Special Awesome Artificer!’ Honestly, how do you lot even level up without dying?” 

Hermione became aware of a dull pain in her left hand, then realized that that was Sally-Anne’s hand which was gripping hers tightly. 

Rose released the troll’s club, at the same time pulling her picnic basket off of her bracelet. From it, she produced a small, green-brown egg. She hurled it at the troll, and it exploded on impact, covering the troll’s head with what looked like black flour. Quick as a flash, Rose’s wand appeared in her hand as her little ferret thing flew out of her picnic basket. 

“Int, I need you to go fetch Professor Dumbledore. Tell him where we are and what’s happening, then lead him here!” 

Her ferret thing, Intelligencer, Hermione thought his name was, gave what appeared to be a nod and flew off back towards the Great Hall. 

Rose spun around to face the girls. 

“Well, move!” 

“I can’t!” Hermione replied, indicating her legs as Sally-Anne let go of her hand. “Malfoy hit me with a leg-locker curse.” 

Rose rolled her eyes as the troll dropped its club. It began to stumble around, clawing at its eyes. 

Sally-Anne stood up and stared at the troll in amazement. With one move, Rose had neutralized the troll. She didn’t shoot at it, she didn’t use a spell, but an egg filled with dust. That was it. She didn’t even hurt it; she _blinded_ it. 

Rose muttered something Hermione didn’t quite understand and touched her wand to Hermione’s legs. The instant the cherry-red wand touched her, Hermione felt her legs relax. She tried moving them. They were a little stiff, but Hermione was pretty sure she could move them again. 

Rose offered her hand to Hermione. 

“Like I said: I’m always here for you, Hermione.” 

Hermione took Rose’s hand and slowly climbed to her feet. 

Rose burned another charge on _Serendipity_ to cast _discern location_ , getting the exact location of Professor Dumbledore. 

<Int, he’s close, near the kitchens. Eom.>

Rose turned to look at the large creature in front of her. 

“We’re faced with what looks like some sort of hill giant, so I’m guessing it’s a CR 7,” Rose said. “Seems a little out of your league, but you’ll get XP all the same for participating.” She tilted her head. “Actually, thinking about it, the three of us constitute a seventh-level party, so that actually makes sense.” 

“Rose, come on,” Sally-Anne said. “Let’s just go and let the professors handle this.” 

“You two go,” Rose said, smirking. “I’ve got this.” 

“Are you going to be alright?” asked Sally-Anne. 

“Don’t worry, girls,” Rose said, grinning. 

Rose began to walk towards the troll and held out her right hand. A ruby red metal baton appeared in her hand. The object was no more than a foot in length, and etched runes decorated its surface. It was finely polished, sparkling as it reflected the torchlight of the corridor. 

“Like I said, it’s only a CR 7, and I’m level 20.” 

After taking one last look at Ron, Hermione and Sally-Anne took off in about the same direction as Rose’s ferret had gone, not questioning what their crimson-haired friend had meant by that. 

Having finally gotten all the dust out of his eyes, Trock picked up his club. He looked around and saw a Human in a red cloak. That Human was probably the one that threw something at him. Trock decided that he was going to smash this human into little red bits. 

Rose pressed a button on the small device in her hand, and it began to unfold. Both ends extended out a few inches, and a pair of prongs popped out of each end. A series of clicks echoed around her as a hundred small parts clicked and slid into place. With a loud “ _SHINK!_ ” a pair of crimson red blades shot out of both ends. She twirled the double-bladed sword over her head and slammed one end into the ground. 

_Crimson Thorn_ was a +5 _keen_ , _merciful_ , _ghost touch_ , _wounding_ feycrafted two-bladed sword. As a _mirror clasp_ , Reflectesalon had acquired the feats that allowed Rose to use _Crimson Thorn_ , up through and including Weapon Supremacy. He was Rose’s masterpiece, and her primary weapon. 

Rose grinned and watched the giant, waiting for the moment her prey gave her an opening to go in for the kill. 

The giant swung its club at her, but she responded by swinging _Crimson Thorn_ in an arc over her head. 

THUNK! 

The giant’s club dropped to the ground, along with its forearm and hand, which still had a firm grip on the club. Rose spun in place, sweeping her double-bladed sword around, catching the giant’s feet with the edge. The giant fell to the ground as its feet were knocked out from under it. The sound of the giant collapsing echoed down the hallways, and a small crater formed in the ground where it fell. 

Rose allowed her momentum to carry her as she spun around. She lept up into the air, tumbling over in midair, and landing squarely on the giant’s stomach. Still moving with her momentum, she brought _Crimson Thorn_ down onto the giant’s head, right between its eyes. 

_Critical hit!_

Rose withdrew her blade from the dead creature’s head, and folded him back up. As _Crimson Thorn_ disappeared into her glove, Rose hopped down from the giant’s corpse and looked over her shoulder. 

The girls had gone. That was good; her friends were safe now. 

* * *

“Professor Dumbledore!” 

Hearing a Scottish voice behind him, Albus turned around. That sounded like a student. In fact, if he knew his students as well as he thought he did, that was Rose Peta-Lorrum. 

“Rose, you should–” 

He stopped when he found himself facing not the quirky crimson-haired girl, but a blue, winged ferret. 

Albus blinked. That was new. 

“Professor Dumbledore, there’s a giant just outside of the Hospital Wing.” 

Of course one of the _Gryffindors_ had gotten themselves right in the middle of it. Not the Hufflepuffs, nor Ravenclaws, nor even the Slytherins. No, the Gryffindors. How did they always manage to do that? 

“Take me to it!” 

Albus had seen a lot of odd creatures, including flying ferrets, but never one that could carry messages in the caster’s voice. As he followed the creature, he wondered if it was some variation of the patronus charm. Although, from what information he had gathered about Rose, she wasn’t actually from this world. Perhaps the world from which she originated had different magic. That certainly explained a lot. It could be rather interesting to talk to her about it sometime. 

* * *

Harry and Ron ran at a full sprint through the halls to the Hospital Wing. It had occurred to Harry that Rose, Hermione, and Sally-Anne didn’t know about the troll. That being the case, he had convinced Ron to accompany him to find the girls and get them to safety. So the two of them ran off during the panic in the Great Hall. Hermione had mentioned in Flight Class earlier that day that Rose was in the Hospital Wing, so Ron reasoned that that was the best place to start their search. 

“Are you sure this is the right way?” Harry asked Ron. 

The two of them saw a small ferret shoot past them. 

“What was that?” Ron asked, watching the ferret fly off. 

Not looking where he was going, Ron ran straight into Hermione and Sally-Anne. The three Gryffindors collided and collapsed in a small heap. 

“Hermione!” Harry said. “Sally-Anne, are you two alright?” 

“Troll,” panted Hermione, climbing to her feet. “Malfoy… troll… Rose…” 

“Where?” asked Harry, as he helped Sally-Anne up. 

“You aren’t seriously… thinking of… going after it,” Hermione panted. “Are you?” 

“You’re mad, mate,” Ron muttered. 

“Rose is in trouble–” 

“I _highly_ doubt that,” Hermione said, finally catching her breath. “She… She held the troll’s club with one arm.” 

“What?!” asked Ron. 

“I think the best thing we can do right now,” she continued, “is to find a teacher.” 

From up ahead of them, they heard a low hissing sound. 

“What was that?” asked Sally-Anne. 

“I _really_ hope that’s just Snape practicing for tomorrow,” Ron said. 

Rounding the corner, they found the source of the noise. When they saw it, the four Gryffindors screamed. 

It was at least 20 feet long, and covered in shimmering, emerald scales. Towards the end of its body were a pair of long, thin legs that both ended in wicked looking claws. Past its legs was a long tail that resembled the end of a snake. Part way up its body were a large pair of bat wings, the scales of which were darker than the rest of its body. It appeared to be balancing on them, along with its legs. Its head was long and gnarled. As it growled and hissed, a forked tongue flicked in and out of its mouth, protected by dozens of sharp fangs. The creature glared at the four of them with snake’s eyes. 

It opened its maw and released a blast of fire. Harry ducked out of the way, pulling Ron with him. The boys hit the floor as flames washed over the air just above their heads. 

“What is that thing?!” Sally-Anne cried. 

“Some sort of dragon,” Hermione said. 

“There aren’t dragons like that,” Ron said. “My brother works with them. That looks too much like a snake.” 

“That doesn’t make you an expert, Ronald!” 

“Now’s not the time!” Harry shouted. “Me and Ron will distract it while you two run!” 

“Are you mad?!” Ron and Hermione shouted. 

The dragon-snake spun around, swinging its tail at them. It struck the wall just to their right, throwing rubble around the junction. 

“Perfect,” Harry said, picking up one of the chunks of stone. “Hey!” 

He hurled it at the monster, hitting it in the side. 

Not wanting to be shown up, Ron grabbed another piece of rock and followed suit. 

“Over here!” he shouted. 

As the dragon-snake was pelted with rocks, Hermione and Sally-Anne took one last look at their housemates, then began to make a break for it. They didn’t know where they’d go, especially if the troll were still down the corridor, but they had no other choice. 

Just as they began to run, the dragon-snake shot another blast of flame at them. Hermione grabbed Sally-Anne and hauled her back, keeping her away from the fire. 

“What do we do?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“I don’t know,” Hermione said. 

“You must know,” Sally-Anne said. “You’re the most clever girl in this school!” 

“I’m sorry, Sally-Anne, but I just don’t know!” Hermione shouted, tears in her eyes. 

Ron glanced over at the girls, then at Harry. They were running out of rocks to throw, and this thing wasn’t letting up. What would Charlie do? He’d told Ron all about dragons, but Ron couldn’t remember most of it. Even then, this didn’t look like any dragon that Charlie had shown Ron. 

_I know what he’d do,_ Ron thought. _He’d come up with the maddest plan he could, and it’d work because he’s Charlie._

“I’ve got an idea,” Ron said. 

Both girls turned to watch Ron and Harry each throw their last stone. 

“Get ready to make a break for it,” Ron said. 

“Ron, what are you–” Sally-Anne began, but before she could get an answer, Ron did the single most dangerous thing he could: he ran straight at the beast. 

“Ron, no!” Harry shouted, taking off after his friend. 

The dragon-snake took one look at the charging Gryffindors, then smashed the closer one into the wall with its tail. 

Harry was knocked backwards, landing on the hard rock of the corridor. 

“Ron!” Harry shouted, climbing to his feet. 

Hermione grabbed Harry’s arm before he could try anything else. 

“Come on!” she shouted. “We’ve got to get out of here! He’ll be fine once Rose catches up to us!” 

The dragon-snake began to lumber towards them, setting its sights on the three conscious Gryffindors. 

“We can get out of here,” Hermione said. 

“Not without Ron!” Harry shouted. “He’s my only friend! I’m not leaving him behind!” 

“That was his plan!” Hermione shouted at him. “He was buying us time to get out of here!” 

“Too late!” Sally-Anne shouted. 

The three of them were literally backed into a corner, with no escape. Just as the creature was about to close in on them, it stopped. It stared at them, but there was obviously something wrong with it. 

In a flash of crimson, the beast’s wing fell to the ground, and it began to cry out in pain. 

On the ground beside it was Rose, holding a long, red, double-bladed sword. She swung the weapon around again, cutting the beast’s tail clean off. 

Harry just stared at the crimson-haired girl as she began to tear into the dragon-snake. He really didn’t know what to think at this point. His chest was a little sore from where the dragon-snake had hit him, but he was alright. Ron was making groaning sounds, which probably meant he was just injured, and not dying. At least, Harry _hoped_ that his best mate wasn’t dying. 

Harry’s mind was still reeling. He had convinced Ron to go out and find their three housemates to ensure that the girls were alright after Malfoy had run into the Great Hall screaming about a troll. Had Hermione and Sally-Anne not insisted that there was in fact a troll in the castle, Harry wouldn’t have believed it. Now, instead of a troll, there was this lizard thing that had already breathed fire, narrowly missing the four Gryffindors. 

To top it all off, the strange girl with the oddly coloured hair had pulled some sort of double sword from out of nowhere, and wielded it with just a little too much expertise for Harry’s taste. Harry’s first impression of Rose had been “Why is this girl dressed like Little Red Riding Hood?” He still wanted to know why, but now his question was “What is that thing she’s got?” 

“Hermione,” he whispered. “What is that thing?” 

“The dragon, Rose, or that sword she’s got?” 

“Any of the above.” 

“No idea… no idea… and… no idea.” 

Rose twirled the weapon around as if it were a baton, spinning it around her back, only to bring it around front again to cut through the reptile. She finally brought her blade up to her shoulder, then jabbed it into the creature’s neck. With one final twirl of her entire body, she decapitated the beast. 

As she finally stopped, Rose’s hair, cloak, and skirt all settled into place at once. A second later, as if they were all in a film, the dragon fell to the ground. It was then that Harry noticed that Rose was trembling. 

Not only that, but Harry also noticed that Rose’s normally rosy-pink goggles were blood red, and there was something wrong with the crimson-haired girl’s face. It didn’t _look_ wrong, it just _felt_ wrong. 

Rose lifted _Crimson Thorn_ up, and began to stab the abomination. She stabbed it over and over again. Blood flew onto Rose as the dragon slumped over. Its body was lifted up and down a few inches off the ground as Rose cut into it with her weapon. 

“Stop it!” Hermione shouted. 

Rose snapped out of her frenzy and looked over at the other Gryffindors. She saw that all of her housemates, save Ronald, who was unconscious, looked horrified. She looked back over at the dragon and folded up _Crimson Thorn_. The creature was dead, and anything past that was just brutality. 

_No good comes from revenge, Rose._

Remembering Carolina’s words relaxed Rose, but it was still a dragon, and when dealing with dragons, Rose never took any chances. She raised her hand, produced _Serendipity_ , and expended another charge from the “wand”. A green ray lanced out of _Serendipity_ , striking the dragon’s corpse. Before the Gryffindors’ eyes, what remained of the dragon evaporated into dust. 

Rose spun around to face the other Gryffindors. 

“Job done!” she panted, a smile finding its way to her face. 

As the other first-years gaped at her, Rose pulled out her _efficient quiver_ , grabbing her _infinite wand of prestidigitation_ from within. She quickly got to work cleaning up the blood from both herself and the walls. No sense in giving Mr. Filch more work than he already had, after all. 

Rose was just finishing up when Professor Dumbledore arrived on the scene, accompanied by Intelligencer. 

“Salutations, Professor Dumbledore!” 

“What happened?” he asked. “Where’s the troll?” 

Rose took a deep breath. It was going to take a while to explain this. 

* * *

**Note:** This is version seven or so of the troll scene. I kept tweaking it, never quite happy with it. It took a while for me to settle on one, but I’m happy with how this ultimately turned out. 


	11. Take a Deep Breath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rose retells the last chapter, and no one believes her.

**Disclaimer** The most rational explanation is that J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter. 

Also, I don’t actually own a trademark on anything, I just like to use the trademark symbol. 

* * *

“Draco hit Hermione with a leg-locker curse, but then a giant came by and chased off Draco. Then, the giant tried to attack Hermione and Sally-Anne, the former of whom couldn’t run because of said curse, and the latter of whom wouldn’t leave the former. I happened to come by, and blinded the giant with a dust eggshell grenade long enough for the girls to escape. The boys here bravely ran in to cover their escape by throwing rocks. The giant slammed Ronald into a wall, but I think he’s alive.” She turned to Ronald. “Ronald! You alive?” 

The boy let out a quiet groan. 

“Yup! He’s alive!” Rose said cheerfully, turning back to the Headmaster. “Anyway, after everyone was clear, I disarmed it, then finished it off.” 

Albus watched all five students as Rose explained what had happened. Hermione, Sally-Anne, and Harry were all shaken up, but still looked alright. Hermione had cuts and bruises all over her, as did Sally-Anne. Harry looked worn, but there were no obvious indicators of injury on him. Ronald, or Ron as Albus was sure he preferred, was the worst off of them all. _He_ required the immediate attention of a mediwitch. 

Albus also noticed that as Rose explained the events that had befallen the children, each of the conscious students looked at her in confusion, and it wasn’t just because of the flying ferret that flew into the picnic basket that hadn’t been there a moment ago. Clearly, there was something about her story that wasn’t entirely true, but whatever it was, the other students were keeping quiet. For the moment, Albus decided it was more important to get everyone moving again. Ron needed to be brought to Poppy, and the rest of the staff needed to be updated. The faster everything could be put right, the better. Luckily, he had someone that would be perfect for the job of messenger. 

“Atrien!” 

A few seconds later, the Head Elf appeared. Albus didn’t necessarily approve of the house elves’ situation, as slavery had never sat well with him, but being able to call out and summon a creature capable of apparating within the castle grounds at will was beyond useful. 

“Salutations, Atrien!” Rose exclaimed. 

The other three conscious Gryffindors stared at her, then at the Head Elf. It occurred to Albus that Harry, Hermione, and Sally-Anne did not know about house-elves, so the short, pale green creature in front of them would probably come as a shock to the first-years. Although, about 10 years ago an American film writer had based a character from one of his science fiction films off of house elves (creating an uproar due to the Statute of Secrecy), so it was possible that they had seen the character, and thus might not be as intimidated by Atrien. What was that character’s name again? Yogurt? Yoga? 

“Hello, Miss Rose. What is it you be needing from Atrien, Headmaster?” 

Albus made a note to ask Rose how Atrien knew her name, and how Rose knew Atrien’s name. Atrien didn’t tend to stray from the House-Elf Common Room, unless she was making her rounds about the castle. Even then, that didn’t typically involve her interacting with the students. Rose would have had to have found Atrien in the House-Elf Common Room, which most likely meant that Rose knew about the House-Elf Common Room, and had been up there at least once already. _That_ was rare, since most students spent their entire academic careers not having the faintest idea that the house-elves slept right above the Great Hall. Today probably wasn’t the day for it, though. 

“Atrien, tell Poppy to start moving towards the Great Hall, and that we’ll be heading in her direction. We have an injured student who requires her immediate attention. It shouldn’t be fatal, but the sooner he receives said attention, the better. After that, tell the other house-elves to spread the word that the troll–” 

“Giant,” Rose said. “It was a giant.” 

“Rose,” Hermione whispered. “It was a troll.” 

“No, trolls are green and thin, with arms that stretch down to the ground, and–” 

“No, Rose, _that_ was a troll,” Hermione said, cutting off her friend before the girl rambled on for too long. 

“Really?” 

“Yes, Rose,” Professor Dumbledore said gently. 

“Oh. Your trolls look like my giants!” 

“Quite alright,” Albus said, turning back to Atrien, whose head was attentively following them all. “As I was saying, spread the word that the _troll_ is contained. Find Quirinius and Severus and tell them to check over the troll to verify that it is in fact handled, as Rose has led me to believe, and remove it as soon as possible. Have Argus look over the damage here, then finally have the staff meet me in my office.” 

“Right away, Headmaster!” 

Without saying another word, Atrien vanished. 

Albus turned back to the students. Sally-Anne looked startled by all of this, Hermione looked both stunned and intrigued, and Harry looked dazed. Rose had returned to what Albus was certain was her default state of happy. 

“We had best get moving towards the Hospital Wing, to make sure that Ron gets the attention he requires,” he told the students. 

Rose paused for a second, her eyes looking up at the ceiling. She began to count on her fingers, silently moving her mouth. The crimson-haired girl paused at three, then brought up a forth finger. 

Albus wasn’t sure what she was counting, but if he wasn’t mistaken, she had mouthed the words “legs”, “discern”, and “disintegrate”. He wasn’t sure what those words meant, but he was confident that with the right context, it would make perfect sense to him. 

“Something wrong, Rose?” asked Albus. When talking only with students, he always made it a habit to use their first names. He preferred that students not see him as some intimidating authority figure, but rather as their friend and ally. Over the years, he had found that humor and sweets also helped in this endeavor. As such, he was always prepared with both, just in case the need arose. 

“Just counting the charges I’ve used on _Serendipity_ ,” she replied, putting her fingers down. Her hand remained raised in front of her. “I’ve used three so far: One to fix Hermione’s legs, one to find you, and a third to help with the troll.” As she spoke, she counted off on her fingers. “I’ve got one left, but I’m already planning on using it, assuming we return to Gryffindor Tower in less than 35 minutes.” She grinned, putting her hand down. “It’s been a while since I’ve gotten this much use out of a single _power surge_!” 

From what Minerva had told him about Rose, _Serendipity_ was the girl’s wand. Albus wasn’t sure what she meant by “charges”, but whatever the case, she was able to use magic to fix Hermione’s legs, the proof of which stood in front of him, which was no easy task for a first-year. This further supported Albus’ theory that Rose used a different type of magic than everyone else did. 

“I see no reason why the four of you shouldn’t be able to make it back before then,” Albus replied. “Unfortunately, Ron may not be able to make it back tonight, but we will see after Madame Pomfrey looks over him.” 

Rose beamed, and the other three Gryffindors nodded. 

Albus waved his wand, and Ron was gently lifted up into the air. The six of them walked towards the Hospital Wing, moving slowly to not move Ron too abruptly. As they passed the troll, Albus quickly looked over it. Rose had said that she had disarmed it, but Albus now saw that she had _literally_ disarmed it; its entire right forearm had been separated from its body. He also noted that there was a rather large amount of blood around its face, enough that he couldn’t quite make out the wound, assuming there was one. He saw no other wounds on the creature’s body, so he assumed that it was from those two injuries that it had died. 

Albus glanced over at Rose, who was skipping along beside him. She certainly was an interesting little girl. Not only was she capable of killing a mountain troll, but she did so casually, as if she had done so hundreds of times before. Looking at her now, there was only a hint of anything other than enthusiasm on her face. Albus had spent many years learning to read students, and, while Rose was certainly a talented liar, at that moment her smile seemed slightly forced. It wasn’t the troll; passing by its corpse served to make the girl’s smile _bigger_. Albus wasn’t sure what was bothering her, but there was another question on his mind: If the troll had been killed _here_ , what were the students doing back _there_? Had the other four students just started running? And why did the area in which he had found the students look so clean? 

After a minute, Poppy met them in the hallway. She looked as she always did when there was trouble, which was a mixture of panicked, frantic, determined, and slightly angry. Poppy immediately began to assess Ron as their growing group continued on towards the Hospital Wing. 

“What happened?!” she asked, not taking her eyes off of the boy. 

“He was slammed into the wall by the troll,” Harry said. 

“What?!” Poppy shouted. “You five found the troll?! Are you all alright?!” 

“Harry took some pretty decent damage, but he’s still conscious,” Rose said. “Sally-Anne and Hermione took some hits too, but nothing major.” 

“Then there’s no time to waste!” Poppy exclaimed, picking up her own pace a little. “His spine is alright. So long as we don’t run him into any more walls, he should be alright to move.” 

The group picked up their pace. Once they reached the Wing a few minutes later, Poppy moved Ron straight over to the closest of the beds. 

“Lay him down right here, Albus,” she instructed. 

Albus levitated the young Gryffindor over to the bed, and laid him down gently. Poppy continued to examine the boy, muttering charms and spells under her breath as she waved her wand over him. 

“Mr. Weasley will be fine,” she said finally. “He has a few cracked ribs, and several bruises, but he’ll be alright. I’ll keep him here for the time being, but he won’t need to be here for more than a few days. If you all wouldn’t mind, I’d like to check each of you over.” 

Before waiting for a reply, Poppy went to work looking over each student. She found that some of Potter’s ribs were bruised as well, but no broken bones. Granger and Perks had cuts and bruises all over, but no real damage there. 

The one that surprised her most was Peta-Lorrum. There wasn’t a scratch on her. The others were all covered with dirt or dust to some degree, but the crimson-haired girl was pristine. If Poppy didn’t know any better, she would think that the young Gryffindor had just had her dress and cloak _cleaned_. 

“The rest of you check out,” Poppy said after finishing with Rose. “You may, and I might add _should_ , return to your common room.” 

“Very good,” Albus said, smiling. “If you four would follow me, I will escort you back to Gryffindor Tower. I think we could all do with a good night’s rest.” 

* * *

The walk back to Gryffindor Tower was a quiet one. After climbing up six flights of stairs, they finally reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. Professor Dumbledore wished them good night, and began to walk back the way they came. As the four Gryffindors climbed through the portrait, they were met by a crowd of 65 Gryffindors waiting for them in the common room. Hermione wasn’t sure _how_ they had all managed to cram themselves into the room, but her question was answered when she noticed that there were about a dozen students sitting on the stairs. Most of the other first-years had positioned themselves at the front of the crowd. 

“What happened?!” asked Lavender. 

“Are you four okay?” asked Parvati. 

“Did you see the troll?!” asked Neville. 

“Everyone, back up!” shouted Alex. 

“Give them space!” added Percy. 

Six students, including Alex and Percy, cleared space to the couch, and shooed everyone away from it so the four first-years could sit down. Rose took note of each of them. Six students probably meant the six prefects, supported by the presence of Alex and Percy among them. That meant that not only did she now have faces for all six, but that the Professors weren’t even allowing the prefects to leave their respective common rooms at the moment. Rose couldn’t help but feel a little respect for the staff; when it came to the students, they did _not_ mess around. She was sure that her brother and uncle would be pleased to hear that. 

Rose was the most calm of the four of them, and sat right down on the couch. The other three first-years slowly took their places. Rose was also the only one that didn’t care that all the students were staring at them. 

“Are you–?” Alex started to ask, but Percy cut her off. 

“Where’s Ronald?” Percy asked, looking at each of them. 

“He’s in the Hospital Wing,” Harry said. “Madame Pomfrey said he had… er… a few… cracked ribs.” He paused for a moment, then added, “But he’s alright otherwise!” 

This generated several gasps from the listening crowd. 

“Have all of you eaten?” Alex asked. 

Harry nodded, but Sally-Anne and Hermione shook their heads. 

“I’m alright, thank you,” Rose said, still smiling. 

“I’ll see if I can get you girls some food,” Alex said. She started towards the common room entrance. 

“We can’t go anywhere,” Percy reminded her. “School’s still on lock down til tomorrow morning.” 

“I think I can get some food,” Rose said. She briefly wondered why Alex and Percy were doing most of the talking, rather than the other prefects, all of whom outranked the fifth-years. Was it because it was five of the first-years, all of whom were charges of either Alex or Percy, that had encountered the troll? Rose decided to worry about it later and work on getting the girls some food. 

<Dripty, would you please come to the Gryffindor Common Room when you get the chance?>

Rose, never really knowing when to stop adding items to existing items, used a _war wizard cloak_ as one component of her cloak. As such, she could use the spell _sending_ once per day. It was really rather handy to have, even if the casting time was supposed to be 10 minutes. For some reason, although Rose wasn’t sure why, the cloak allowed her to cast it as a standard action. Professor Ozerl had explained it to her once, but she hadn’t been paying attention. 

“What do you mean, Rose?” asked Alex. 

On cue, Dripty appeared in the middle of the common room. Several students gasped as the house-elf appeared in front of them. 

“Is that a house-elf?” Alex asked. “Why is it here?” 

Dripty looked around, and, after spotting Rose, approached the crimson-haired girl. 

“Was you calling Dripty, Miss Rose? Or is Dripty going nutters?” 

“I used _sending_. It’s nifty!” Rose exclaimed. She mentally patted herself on the back for using the word ’nifty’, then continued. “Dripty, would you please bring some food up here for Hermione and Sally-Anne? They didn’t get a chance to eat because they were too busy being attacked by a gi– troll.” She motioned to Sally-Anne and Hermione as she spoke. 

“Is you being one of the students that was attacked?!” gasped Dripty. “The other elves was saying that students was getting attacked! Is Miss Rose being okay?” 

“Miss Rose is being fine!” Rose replied cheerfully. “But Miss Hermione and Miss Sally-Anne is needing food right now. Would you please bring some up for them?” 

“Right away, Miss Rose!” exclaimed the elf immediately before he vanished. 

“Rose, how did you summon a house-elf?” Alex asked. “Only the professors are supposed to be able to do that.” 

“Like I said, I used _sending_!” 

“What’s _sending_?” Percy asked. 

“The evocation spell that allows people to send a message to another creature,” Rose replied. She looked around at the confused faces of her housemates. “No one’s heard of _sending_?” 

All around the room heads were shaking and shoulders were shrugging. 

“Weird,” Rose said. 

“What about the troll?” Fred asked. 

“We wanna hear about the troll!” George added. 

“You two–!” Percy started. 

“It’s alright!” Rose said. “It’ll be a few minutes until the food arrives–” 

Once again on cue, Dripty reappeared in the same spot as before, carrying two plates _full_ of food. It looked like he had grabbed a bit of everything from the Hallowe’en feast. He walked over to the girls, balancing them on his hands with little difficulty and handed them to Sally-Anne and Hermione. From his tea towel, Dripty also produced silverware for each girl, along with cloths for a napkins. 

“Wow,” Rose said, genuinely impressed. “That was _quick_. Good work, Dripty!” 

“Thank you, Miss Rose! Miss Hermione, Miss Sally-Anne, is this being enough food?” 

Both girls stared wide-eyed at the plates in front of them. 

“Er… yeah, thank you… Dripty,” Hermione said. 

“Thank you,” Sally-Anne added. 

“You are both being welcome,” Dripty said. “Now Dripty must be going to help the other elves.” 

“Thank you very much, Dripty,” Rose said, grinning. 

“You is being very welcome, Miss Rose!” 

Beaming, Dripty vanished once again. 

Rose looked at the two girls. She looked around at the food in front of them, and something occurred to her. 

“I know what’s missing!” she exclaimed. She pulled off her _portable hole_ from her bracelet. As the attention of most of Gryffindor House was on her, the students were clearly able to see her charm grow into its full size. She reached inside with her left hand, and muttered under her breath. She drew her hand back out of the hole, expending the last charge from _Serendipity_ to create the Drink of Ultimate Comfort™: Hot cocoa. 

“Here you are, girls!” she said. In her hand was a plate with four mugs, each white with a different design on them. One had a red rose, another had a pink bunny’s head, a third had an eclipse on it, and the last one had an indigo eye on it. 

“I’m sort of out of hands,” Hermione said. 

“I’ve got you,” Alex said, pulling out her wand. Waving it in a small, circular pattern, similar to what they had just learned in charms class for the levitation charm, she pointed it at the plate resting on Hermione’s lap. 

“ _Arnofio Bilat!_ ” 

Hermione’s plate began to hover on its own. Alex turned and did the same to Sally-Anne’s plate. 

“Thank you,” Hermione said quietly. 

“Don’t mention it,” Alex replied kindly. “I’m just so sorry that you all had to face a troll on your own.” 

“Love to hear about it,” grumbled the Weasley Twins. This earned them a glare from their older brother. 

“Don’t worry about it!” Rose exclaimed. “The entire party survived!” 

“What is this?” Hermione asked Rose as the bushy-haired girl took the mug with the eye, wafting in some air. Rose took the mug with the rose on it, and passed it to Sally-Anne. She took the bunny mug, leaving Harry with the eclipse mug. 

“Hot cocoa,” the crimson-haired girl replied, replacing the charm on her bracelet. “My sister, Alice, always made me hot cocoa when I had had a stressful day.” 

Hermione nodded, and took a sip of the cocoa. It had certainly been a stressful day. 

“Now, onto the story of the troll!” Rose exclaimed. The Weasley Twins cheered as Rose took a sip of her cocoa. 

_Just like Wonder Girl used to make._

As Rose gave a slightly exaggerated recollection of their encounter, once again sans dragon, Hermione and Sally-Anne picked at their food. It was a lot easier to eat with less attention on them. Harry seemed to share their sentiments, as he stayed quiet through Rose’s reenactment, which included her jumping up and physically reenacting parts of it. 

Hermione was grateful to have attention off of her. It had been a really long day, and she was looking forward to getting some rest. If she survived Potions Class tomorrow, she was going to start on a letter to home, asking her parents to fill out the forms for transfer. She figured she’d give it another go at Beauxbatons before giving up on the Magical World entirely. 

* * *

“Thank you all for meeting on such short notice,” Albus opened the emergency teacher’s meeting. 

The entirety of the staff had been packed into his office. Even Rubeus, as big as he was, had been able to cram inside. It helped that Cuthbert Binns, the ghostly History Professor, could simply phase in and out as he chose. 

The Weasley Flask floated (literally) around the room. No one quite remembered how, but it had become an unofficial sharing stick. It wasn’t necessarily required that anyone drink from it, but one had to hold it in order to speak. As such, Filius had enchanted it to respond to the first person who reached for it at a time, so long as it was relinquished willingly. Albus allowed it because it kept a degree of order in their meetings. 

“As you all know,” Albus continued. “We have the issue of how the troll penetrated our defences.” He briefly explained what he knew, including Rose’s tale. 

“Have we made any headway on determining _how_ it got in?” Minerva asked. 

“After examining the wards,” Septima said. “It seems that they had been altered to allow trolls to enter the grounds unhindered.” 

All eyes turned towards Quirinius. Rule One in Hogwarts: Always blame the Defence Professor. If something went wrong, then it was a safe bet that the Defence Professor had something to do with it. 

“I l-l-lowered the w-w-wards to bring a t-t-t-troll in t-to p-p-prot-t-tect the P-p-package,” he stammered. “I m-m-must have f-f-forg-g-gotten to res-s-store them after I was f-f-f-finished.” 

The entire room groaned. No one was surprised by this; before he was the Defence Professor, Quirinius had been the Muggle Studies Professor. After a year long sabbatical, he had returned and applied for the Defence Against the Dark Arts position, which had supposedly been cursed by Voldemort himself. Unfortunately, given their turnover of Defence Professors, Albus found it hard to get anyone for the job, except for Severus, who applied every year. That being the case, Albus had had no choice but to hire Quirinius for the position, as he didn’t want to lose his Potions Master. 

“You’re lucky that we haven’t got a replacement, Quirinius,” Minerva growled. “Otherwise you’d be out of here before–” 

“Minerva, that’s enough,” Albus said calmly. “No more can be done about the situation. The students are safe, and the damage was fairly minimal.” 

Minerva continued to fume silently as Albus turned to Quirinius. 

“Quirinius, the point does still stand that your mistake endangered the lives of five of our students. This will _not_ happen again. Do I make myself clear?” 

Quirinius shakily nodded his understanding. Albus didn’t even need to raise his voice; the staff knew what happened to teachers when Albus Dumbledore didn’t approve of them. Albus calmly turned to the Ancient Runes and Arithmancy Professors. 

“Bathsheda, Septima, did you two rectify the situation?” 

“We did, Albus,” Bathsheda replied, nodding. “No more trolls will be finding their way onto the castle grounds any time soon.” 

“We also took the liberty and checked the state of the other wards,” Septima added. “The rest of them are intact.” 

“What of the students?” Charity Burbage, the current Muggle Studies professor, asked. “You mentioned that there were five Gryffindors attacked by the troll. How are they faring?” 

“They seem to be doing alright, given the circumstances,” Albus said. “Poppy has already looked them over, and apart from Mr. Weasley, none of them needed medical attention. Mr. Weasley himself suffered only a few cracked ribs, but Poppy assured me that he would be fine. They are certainly shaken, but alright.” He turned to Severus. “Severus, Quirinius, did you two dispose of the troll?” 

“I banished its body after looking it over,” Severus replied in his monotone voice. He smirked. “Quirinius passed out.” 

Most of the staff had to suppress smirks of their own. It wasn’t just that Quirinius had applied for the historically dangerous position of Defence Professor that concerned Albus; it was the fact that the former Muggle Studies Professor was so incredibly timid. He had no spine whatsoever, and wasn’t particularly competent in defence. Albus had seen students like him before; students that tried so hard to be tough, but were truly scared beneath it. They undoubtedly got in over their heads at some time or another. 

“What did you find?” Albus inquired. 

“As you said, its forearm had been completely removed. It was a clean cut, but I saw no signs of _Sectumsempra_ or any similar spell being used. Further of interest was the wound on its face. It was stabbed, although I don’t know what with.” 

“Who was it you said did this, Albus?” Bathsheda asked. 

“Rose Peta-Lorrum.” 

There were collective groans from Severus, Minerva, and Aurora, and slightly quieter groans from Pomona and Filius. 

“Of _course_ it was her,” Aurora Sinistra said. “The girl’s been giving me suspicious looks that remind me of Severus every Wednesday for the past two months.” 

“ _Please_ don’t use her name and mine in the same sentence,” Severus said. 

“Why can’t she just act like a _normal_ student?” muttered Minerva. 

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum told me that she ‘disarmed it, then finished it off’,” Albus said, hoping to regain control of the room before his staff got too out of hand. It was late, after all, and he was certain that they’d all feel better after some rest. “She did not elaborate on how she did this.” 

“Are we suggesting that the girl has a _sword_ on her person?” asked Filius. 

“I don’t see how else she could have done the damage she did,” Severus replied coolly. “Unless she is a lot more advanced than we believed.” 

“How did you determine that _Sectumsempra_ hadn’t been used?” Septima asked, with just a hint of condescension in her voice. 

“Standard analysis charms,” Severus replied. A little more irritably, he added, “And I think I know a thing or two about the effects of _Sectumsempra_. It _could_ have been used on its arm, but not its forehead.” 

Septima nodded. 

“I did not see anywhere that she could have been storing a weapon on her person,” Albus said. “She was wearing her standard attire.” 

“Could she have transfigured it?” Severus asked, turning to Minerva. 

“It’s possible, but that would be rather advanced for a first-year. She’s good, but I don’t believe that she’s _that_ good.” 

“What if she’s not _actually_ a first-year?” 

“Severus, we’ve been down this road before,” Pomona said gently. 

“But now we’ve got new information,” Septima said. “Before, she was just a lost, possibly deluded little girl, correct? Now she’s had some sort of psychotic episode, and possibly carries a concealed weapon on her person. I think it’s time we rethink our decision to allow Ms. Peta-Lorrum to stay here.” 

The other staff members shifted around uncomfortably. Albus could tell from the looks on their faces that most of them were thinking the same thing. 

“I quite agree,” Albus said. “However, I don’t think _now_ is the best time. We are all tired, and there are still a few more matters I’d like to discuss with you all. We can discuss Ms. Peta-Lorrum’s future here tomorrow.” 

The rest of the staff nodded their agreement. It was getting late, and the additional stress of the troll had only served to make most of them tired, especially now that the rush of adrenaline was wearing off. 

“Severus, were you able to verify that the Package is safe?” Albus asked. 

“It appears so,” Severus said. He glared at Rubeus. “I was only able to do a brief search, since Hagrid’s bloody dog interfered. I had to get out quick before it took off my leg.” 

“Fluffy was just doin’ ‘is job,” Rubeus argued. “Not ‘is fault! He ‘asn’t been ‘imself for a few weeks now!” 

“Is it possible someone already made an attempt on the Package?” Pomona suggested. “Could that be why your dog is on edge?” 

“The alarm runes on the trapdoor haven’t notified me of anything,” Bathsheda said. “No one has entered the trapdoor since I set them up in August; that includes tonight. And if they’ve somehow managed to bypass them, I doubt that they’ll find any of the _other_ alarm runes I’ve placed throughout that area.” 

“Very good,” Albus replied. He turned to the Caretaker. “Argus, did you have a chance to assess the damage to the corridor?” 

“Made a bloody mess of things, that troll did,” Argus Filch grumbled. “Chunks taken out o’ the walls all over the place, and there’s some dust that wasn’t there before. The dust should only take a few minutes to clear, but one o’ you lot is gonna ‘ave ta fix up the corridor. It’d take me weeks ta get it fixed up properly. I’d ‘ave ta remove a lot o’ the surrounding stone from where the troll smashed its club and refit it. I’ve got the proper tools, except for the new rock, which would take me days to get a ‘old of. So if you want it done right, and want it done quick, you’ll have to do it yourself.” 

“Thank you, Argus,” Albus said. “Severus, Minerva, please stay; the rest of you may leave. Well done, everyone.” 

As the rest of the staff shuffled out of the Headmaster’s office, Minerva and Severus approached his desk. Albus waited until his other staff members had left before talking to his second- and third-in-command. 

“The troll wasn’t the only thing here tonight.” 

Minerva looked at him with mild shock. 

“Are you sure?” she asked. 

“The dust of which Argus spoke is what remains of it, I suspect,” he said. “That corridor was far too clean. I suspect someone cleaned the corridor up to hide the evidence.” 

“The girl,” growled Severus. 

“Why is she covering it up?” Minerva asked. “Why not report it?” 

“Obviously, she let it in,” Severus said. “The troll, and whatever else was there.” 

Minerva sighed. “Albus, I know you don’t approve of it, but I think it’s time that we tried using other means of extracting information from her. I don’t want to believe it, but she _is_ oddly talented at Transfigurations. It’s _possible_ that she is using Transfiguration to hide a weapon on her person, but transfiguring a living creature is difficult.” 

Albus eyed his two professors. 

“Are you two suggesting veritaserum?” he asked. 

“It won’t work,” Severus said. “Albus, she’s an Occlumens.” 

“There goes my house-elf theory,” Minerva muttered. “Unless house-elves can use Occlumency now.” 

“I take it this means that you’ve been using Legilimency on students again, Severus?” Albus asked his Potions Master. “Despite me telling you many times not to?” 

“Did you honestly expect that I would listen?” 

“No, but it would have been a nice surprise,” Albus said lightheartedly. “Like getting a toffee-flavoured Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Bean.” 

“She can use Occlumency,” Severus emphasised. “She can’t _possibly_ be a first-year, Albus! _No_ Muggle-born first-year can use Occlumency. Most of the _staff_ can’t properly use Occlumency.” He briefly eyed Minerva, then turned back to Albus. “The girl _must_ be hiding something!” 

Albus folded his hands in front of his face, and stared off into space. Minerva and Severus knew that look; Albus was carefully considering his options. 

“What do you think happened, Severus?” Albus asked finally. 

“I think the girl let in the troll to test some sort of experiment,” Severus said. 

“Quirinius already said he was responsible for the wards,” Minerva reminded him. 

“Alright, so she stumbled upon the troll by accident. Either way, I think she unleashed some sort of creature on it, and that creature carved up the troll. Then she realized that she would get caught, so she destroyed the creature.” 

“Okay,” Albus said, turning to Minerva. “Minerva?” 

“I’m not sure what to think, but I would like to know where she keeps her wand. I’ve only seen it a few times, but her hand always disappears in her sleeve and emerges holding her wand. Her wand that she _crafted herself_. It’s possible that whatever method she uses to store her wand, she is also using to store some type of blade.” 

“And the dust?” 

“I don’t believe we’ve got enough information to act upon it quite yet.” 

Albus nodded sagely. 

“That will be all. Both of you get some rest; we’ll discuss this further tomorrow.” 

As the two professors exited his office, Albus stood up and walked over to his phoenix, Fawkes. 

“What do _you_ think happened, Fawkes?” Albus asked, stroking the bird’s neck. 

Albus knew the girl was hiding something. She was able to use magic far too advanced for a first-year; she was an Occlumens; she had a pet ferret through which she could communicate; she was possibly carrying a sword on her person. Above all of that, she was able to hear the castle. 

“What is she?” 

* * *

Back in Gryffindor Tower, the wave of questions had finally subsided, and most of the other students had wandered off to bed, leaving Hermione, Harry, Sally-Anne, and Rose in the Gryffindor Common Room. The four of them were sitting by the fireplace, mostly because Rose had excitedly yelled “Fire!” and appeared at the fireplace. The other three had followed her, although none of them knew why. Hermione was really tired, but there was one question still on her mind. 

“Rose, why aren’t you telling anyone about the dragon?” Hermione whispered. 

Rose flinched at the word “dragon”. 

“Hermione, what do you think Professor Dumbledore would have done if he saw the mangled mess that used to be a dragon?” Rose asked. “Especially after my ‘psychotic episode’ earlier this month.” 

“Well–” Hermione began. 

“They’d have kicked you out,” Harry said. “Is that why you turned it into dust?” 

“I _disintegrated_ it because I hate dragons, and you can never be too careful,” Rose said. “It’s _significantly_ harder to res something when it’s been turned to dust. The ‘mangled mess’ bit just now popped into my head. The troll was easy to explain; they knew it was there, and its body was clearly visible. The dragon was dust, and I would have had to explain how that dragon got turned to dust.” 

“Did you just make up _that_ bit?” Hermione asked. 

“Like I said, I hate dragons,” Rose continued, without skipping a beat. “I didn’t say anything because I hate talking about dragons.” 

“Why?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“Long story,” Rose said. “Don’t wanna talk about it.” 

_That makes a change_ , thought Hermione. 

“Alright,” Hermione conceded. 

The four of them sat in silence for several minutes. Rose seemed mesmerized by the fire next to them, but the other three just sat in awkward silence. 

“Thank you, Harry,” Sally-Anne said quietly, breaking the silence. “Thank you for coming to find us.” 

“Sure, don’t mention it,” he said. “I’m sorry me and Ron weren’t much help.” 

“It’s fine,” Hermione said. 

“Everyone was level one at some point!” Rose exclaimed, not taking her eyes off of the fire. 

Harry looked at Hermione in confusion. “What’d she say?” 

“I think that’s Rose for ‘Thank you’.” 

“Nope! That was Rose for ‘Good work’!” Rose corrected her. 

“Thank you, I guess,” Harry said. “Still, I didn’t do much.” 

“Every little bit helps keep the party alive!” 

“Party?” asked Hermione. 

“Adventuring party!” Rose beamed. “The three of us will make a great team!” 

“Three?” Harry asked. 

Rose turned to Hermione. 

“I’m… I’m not staying,” Hermione said. “I just can’t. I mean, I nearly _died_ today! The past two months I’ve been harassed, threatened, and attacked! _And_ I get insulted on a regular basis!” 

“Hate to tell you,” Rose said. “But you start to get used to the insult. I still respond to _Singya_ , even though I _hate_ it.” 

“ _Singya_?” asked Sally-Anne. 

“Elven for ‘Worthless piece of trash’,” Rose replied, just a little too cheerfully. “Also, my nickname at my old school.” 

Harry and Sally-Anne stared at her. 

“Wow,” Harry said. “Even my aunt and uncle only ever call me ‘boy’.” 

“Right!” Rose said. “You’re an orphan, too!” 

“ _You’re_ an orphan?” Harry asked. 

“Yup,” Rose replied. “Your surrogate family not treat you well?” 

Sally-Anne noted that there were _two_ things about which Rose seemed to refuse to talk: Dragons, and her parents. 

“Not really,” he replied. “What about you? Do you live with anyone?” 

“Not exactly, but I’ve got a sort of surrogate family. My brother, sister, and uncle sort of raised me.” She turned to the other girls. “What about you two? I’m not sure I really know much about either of your families.” 

“There’s not much to say,” Sally-Anne said. “They’re both normal people. I don’t know what they’ll do when they find out that I was attacked by a troll. They’ll probably want me to leave.” 

“Don’t you want to?” asked Hermione. 

“I did,” Sally-Anne replied. “I did at first, and I thought ‘Well, I’ll miss using magic, but I’d rather be at home.’ But then I thought ‘What will happen if I run away?’ I mean really, what would happen? Wouldn’t it just prove that Malfoy is right? It would prove that I don’t belong here, wouldn’t it?” 

Rose smiled. 

“I don’t know,” Hermione replied. “Maybe you belong here, but I don’t.” 

“Why not?” Harry asked. “Why don’t you belong here? You can use magic too. You’re better at it than almost anyone in our year!” 

“But I don’t fit in!” 

“You think we do?” Rose asked. “None of us grew up with this culture! Harry was raised by his Muggle aunt and uncle, Sally-Anne was raised by her Muggle parents, and I… was not raised here.” 

“Like the Island of Misfit Toys!” Sally-Anne said, laughing a little. 

“I’m not sure what that is, but I’m assuming that it’s making our point,” Rose said. 

“We don’t all fit in here, but we fit in with one another,” Sally-Anne said. “Right?” 

“Makes sense to me!” Rose said. “Harry, you?” 

“Yeah, I think so,” he said. 

For a while, no one said anything. It wasn’t the same awkward silence as before; this time everyone was trying to think of what to say next. It was getting late, and they really all wanted to go to bed. 

“Friends?” Harry asked finally. 

“Friends,” Sally-Anne agreed. 

Hermione looked at each of them. For the first time in two months, she was finally beginning to feel like she belonged in this strange world. Up until this point, almost everyone had looked at her as if she were carrying the plague. Everyone had looked down on her, but now she had three people smiling at her. They all supported her. They had all _saved_ her. All three of these people had risked their lives to save her from a troll today. Sally-Anne, the timid girl who had the bravery to stand by Hermione instead of saving herself. Harry, the boy who had run in and thrown rocks at a creature to keep it away from her, even after it almost set him on fire. And Rose, the strange girl that had appeared between Hermione and a troll after Hermione had done nothing more than ask for help. Maybe she did belong here. 

“Friends,” Hermione said finally, smiling for possibly the first time all week. 

Rose didn’t say anything. She just grinned. She had her team again. 

* * *

From deep within the castle, the Consciousness observed its pet get massacred by the Girl in Red. 

_Not bad for a first test_ , it said as it watched the creature evaporate from the girl’s spell. _Rose Peta-Lorrum. You may be just what I need._

It decided that it would need more information, but not quite yet. It would wait. If the Consciousness was anything, it was patient. 

* * *

**Note:** The mugs were Rose’s (Red Rose), Alice’s (Pink Bunny), Shadow’s (Eclipse), and Sk’lar’s (Eye of Knowledge). This is the most important piece of information in this entire chapter, so I expect everyone to memorize this vital plot point. _Arnofio Bilat_ is based on the Welsh for “Floating Plate”. 

For my D &D readers, a _war wizard cloak_ doesn’t typically allow _sending_ to be cast as a standard action. That’s a house rule of mine. 


	12. And Exhale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rose explains how D&D works, and the staff talks a bunch.

**Disclaimer** While in _this_ version of Harry Potter, I am the Divine Maestro, J.K. Rowling is the Divine Maestro of the _original_ version. 

* * *

The next morning, Hermione descended the stairs to the common room. She was amazed that she had gotten _any_ sleep the previous night. Hermione had spent the entire night, and most of the morning, trying to figure out what she was going to do. She finally felt like she belonged here, but once her parents found out about the troll attack, they’d pull her out of here for sure. 

Not to mention that every time Hermione closed her eyes, she saw the troll raising its club, or the snake-dragon unleashing a blast of fire on them. She shuddered. She had nearly died _twice_. If life at Hogwarts was going to be this dangerous, then maybe she _shouldn’t_ stay. She’d have to ask Professor McGonagall about it. It was still so difficult to tell what was normal in the Magical World. 

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she found Rose sitting in one of the chairs in the common room. The crimson-haired girl had her legs crossed and her arms folded. Her shoulders were hunched, and she had a sour look on her face. Hermione had seen that expression on her little cousin Estelle, who was six and didn’t always agree with the phrase “It’s time for bed now.” Hermione recognized that look; Rose was pouting. 

“This is about the _thought bottle_ , isn’t it?!” Rose shouted at the ceiling. 

“Something wrong?” asked Hermione. For once, she was thankful that she was still sleepy, because had she been awake enough to fully take in the scene before her, she was sure that she’d be rolling on the ground laughing. Here was this girl that slaughtered both a dragon-serpent and a troll the previous night, _without breaking a sweat_ , and she was currently _pouting_ like a child. 

“Chapter Bonus has been revoked,” Rose grumbled. “Either that, or the chapter still hasn’t ended. Considering that we all went to bed after a big incident, I would assume that _that_ chapter has ended, and a new one has begun. However, I did not get any XP.” 

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow,” Hermione said. Had it been almost anyone else, Hermione would have thought that she were still asleep. But this was Rose, who rarely made complete sense, if she made any sense at all. 

“Up until now, I’ve been getting a bonus of XP after every chapter,” Rose said. “Presumably, this is to counterbalance the lack of encounters in a story-based campaign. However, I did not receive one from the most recent chapter, leading me to believe that the Writer or the DM, although I believe those two to be one and the same, has seen fit to reduce the amount of XP I’ve been receiving. This is most likely due to the large amount in my reserve at the moment,” looking up at the ceiling, she shouted, “which I was planning on using!” 

“What’s ‘XP’?” Hermione asked. Also on her mind was _What does Rose mean by Writer?_ and _Why is Rose shouting at the ceiling?_ , but Hermione figured she’d get to those two later, as she was certain that neither explanation would make sense. 

“Experience Points,” Rose replied, still glaring at the ceiling. “It’s what allows me to use _Serendipity_ , and keep my suite of spells on me during the day.” 

Hermione paused for a moment. Why did experience allow her to use magic? That didn’t make any sense. How did one give up experience in order to use anything? Was Rose giving up her very memories every day? 

“How does _experience_ allow you to use magic?” Hermione asked, vocalizing her internal dialog. “That doesn’t make any sense!” 

Rose unfolded her arms, and looked at Hermione, tilting her head to the side. 

“Every adventurer needs XP,” she said. “It’s what allows them to level up and become stronger!” 

“ _That_ makes sense, but what _doesn’t_ make sense is how you use it to cast spells. Are you seriously giving up _memories_ in order to use them?” 

“Oh, no!” Rose replied, smiling. “Nothing _that_ ridiculous! XP doesn’t just encompass memories! It’s the very essence of an adventurer! It’s tied to my memories, in a way, but giving up XP doesn’t mean giving up my actual memories.” 

“Then how do you use it to cast spells?” Hermione asked, getting impatient. 

“Some spells and infusions have an XP cost,” Rose explained. “In order to use those that do, I have to give up a part of myself. Not memories, exactly, but a sort of essence. I retain my memories, so I remember people, places, and foods, but it slowly wears down my ability to perform certain tasks, such as my infusions. It’s like a sort of life force. I don’t necessarily become physically or mentally weaker, but I become less able to stab a giant in its face. If I burn too much of my XP, then I’ll lose a level, and _then_ I will become physically and mentally weaker, and possibly forget _how_ to do all those _kethé_ things I did.” 

As Rose explained all of this, other students walked by, but none stayed to listen after they realized that Rose was once again talking nonsense; at least, none other than Sally-Anne. 

“So it’s like Qi?” she asked. 

“No, that’s what Monks and Ninjas use for their cool and disappointing tricks, respectively,” Rose said. “Their _Ki_ Pool refreshes at the start of the day, if I recall correctly. Not really sure. Carolina would know.” Rose paused for a moment, as she tilted her head to the other side. “Anyway, XP is mostly earned by winning encounters, but it’s also earned by doing stuff special to your character.” Rose looked up for a second, then back at the girls. “I guess it’s _kinda_ like _Ki_ , but even more essential.” 

“So without… XP,” Sally-Anne said slowly. “You can’t do all those amazing things you did yesterday?” 

“Pretty much,” Rose said. 

“So whenever you cast spells, you’re using part of your life force?” Hermione asked. “I wouldn’t have thought that that was real, but I guess if magic’s real, then anything’s possible. So without this bonus, you have to win encounters or be yourself?” 

“Bonus?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“Chapter Bonus,” Rose said. “Pretty much. Shadow always got XP for being paranoid, and Sk’lar for being smart. I get it for having fun!” 

“Of course you do,” muttered Hermione, knowing that Rose’s definition of fun differed from that of everyone else. 

“Chapter like in a book?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“Yup!” 

For a few minutes, neither girl said anything, but instead just stared at Rose. The crimson-haired girl beamed back at them. 

“I think I’m just gonna ignore that one as well,” Hermione said, exchanging glances with Sally-Anne. “So you’ll be fine so long as you…” Hermione’s voice trailed off as it dawned on her that everything else that earned Rose her ’XP’ fell into a single category. “Break the rules,” she deadpanned. 

“It’s no fun if you think about it like _that_ ,” Rose said. 

“How else am I supposed to think about it?” Hermione asked. 

“Now we get to go out and have more adventures together!” Rose exclaimed, grinning. 

“I don’t _want_ to have adventures!” Hermione exclaimed. “I just want to have a _normal_ … magical… life!” As she said it, it occurred to Hermione just how ridiculous that sounded. “I just want to go to school!” 

“Hermione, you’re a PC,” Rose said. “There _is_ no normal.” She turned to Sally-Anne. “Sally-Anne, same thing.” Rose grinned, suddenly very excited. “Do you girls want to work on character progressions later?!” 

Both girls stared at Rose. 

“I’m sorry?” Sally-Anne asked, looking to Hermione, hoping that the older girl would explain. “What’s a ‘PC’?” 

“Player Character,” Hermione replied. “Rose has some… _strange_ ideas about reality.” 

Sally-Anne nodded her understanding. 

“Although, I don’t know what a ‘character progression’ is,” Hermione continued. “That one’s new on me.” 

Rose took a deep breath, as if she were about to give a long, in-depth explanation. Hermione was pleased when she was cut off before she could begin. Rose was nice enough, but some of the things she said were just ridiculous, and it could be a real chore listening to her. 

“Hello, girls,” Harry said. “Is it alright if we stop by the Hospital Wing to see Ron? I just want to make sure he’s alright.” 

“Sure!” Rose exclaimed. “I can explain character progressions on the way!” 

“Character progressions?” Harry repeated. 

Hermione groaned. 

As the four Gryffindors began the long walk from the seventh floor to the ground floor, Rose explained the leveling process, classes, feats, and skills to all of them. By the time they reached the Hospital Wing, the other three Gryffindors had completely tuned out the girl. Rose remained completely oblivious to this, and continued talking anyway. 

* * *

“Thank you all for meeting me at such an early hour,” Albus opened the second staff meeting in as many days. “I’m sure that most of you are only here because I promised that there would be coffee, but your presence is appreciated nonetheless.” 

It was a reduced staff meeting, consisting of his Heads of House, and anyone else that opted to attend. The head count ended up being his four Heads of House, as well as Septima, Aurora, and Quirinius, since no one else particularly wanted to be there that early. 

“Who would like to start?” Albus asked them. 

“She appears out of the blue,” Severus began. “The girl refers to people and places that don’t exist, and claims to have crafted her own wand.” 

“Which is good enough to get Ollivander’s approval,” Minerva added. 

“She is talented at just about everything she does,” Filius said. 

“She talks with inanimate objects,” Pomona added, a little sourly. She didn’t like how everyone was being so hostile towards this poor girl, but they did have a point. Besides which, she didn’t want to endanger the other students because of this one girl. “Including the castle, plants, and… I believe her cauldron?” She looked to Severus for confirmation on that last one, who nodded. “Yes, her cauldron,” Pomona concluded. 

“She constantly glares at me as if she expects me to attack her at any moment,” Aurora put in. 

“Keeps trying to be nice to me,” grumbled Severus. 

“She has also had-d-d a ps-s-sychotic episode,” Quirinius stammered. “And p-p-pos-s-sibly–” 

“And possibly killed a troll with a concealed weapon,” Septima said. It was too early to wait all day for Quirinius to finish a sentence. Naturally, the tree-hugging, friend-to-all Sprout gave her a dirty look for being “insensitive” to Quirrell’s condition. 

“On top of everything else,” Severus concluded. “She is an Occlumens.” 

Most of the staff turned to look at Severus in confusion, as most of the staff was unaware of this bit of information. 

“Albus, I know you try to give every student a chance,” Minerva said, “but I don’t think this girl should stay here any longer. Sure she’s stable _now_ , but what if that doesn’t last? What if she snaps and begins to attack the other students?” 

“In her defence,” Pomona said, “couldn’t we say that about every student?” 

“But she’s the only one that recently killed a troll,” Minerva shot back. 

“She’s still one of _your_ students, Minerva,” Pomona countered. “Not to mention that she killed a troll to _save_ her classmates. And if we want to talk about a ‘Threat to the Students’, what about Mr. Malfoy, who makes a point to harass other students, _including_ using some unpleasant hexes that his father no doubt taught him.” 

“That _is_ a good point,” Minerva said, turning to glare at Severus. “Severus, why is it that one of _your_ students is allowed to hex _my_ students without consequences?” 

“And who told you that he did this?” Severus asked calmly. 

“Mses. Peta-Lorrum, Granger, and Perks all verified this story,” Albus said. That wasn’t _entirely_ true, but Hermione and Sally-Anne certainly hadn’t looked confused about _that_ part of Rose’s story. “And I believe Pomona is also referring to the cases where several Hufflepuff students claimed that he attacked them.” 

“Merely rumors floating around intended to harass the son of a well-known political figure,” Severus said dismissively. 

Minerva, Aurora, Filius, and Pomona all turned to stare at Severus, scepticism clear on each of their faces. Each of them had had Draco Malfoy in their respective classes; each of them knew that he was rude, pretentious, and quite convinced that the rules didn’t apply to him. Not unlike his father. 

“Regardless, this isn’t about Malfoy,” Severus said. “This is about Peta-Lorrum.” 

“Alright, why don’t we just get her side of the story, then?” Pomona asked. 

“We already have,” Aurora said. 

“I mean the _entire_ story,” Pomona said. “If we hear what she believes to be her story, then there might be some truth to it. Maybe there will be some explanation as to what happened last night, even.” 

This was why Albus liked Pomona. She stubbornly defended the students, no matter what they had done. Unless they went after one of the Hufflepuffs. In that case, all bets were off. Had the troll found a group of Hufflepuffs instead of a group of Gryffindors, there would have been nothing Albus could have done or said that would have stopped Pomona from literally throwing Quirinius out of the castle. Pomona was like a mother bear like that. 

“What about the other students that were with her last night?” Septima asked. “Mses. Granger and Perks sound like normal girls. Why don’t we ask _them_ what happened? It may not give us _all_ of the answers we want, but it may give us enough information to discredit Ms. Peta-Lorrum.” 

Albus wasn’t sure if it was a Slytherin thing, but Septima and Severus always seemed to think of the move that the others, and sometimes even Albus himself, had overlooked. Or maybe it was just the analytical nature of the Slytherins’ chosen professions. Whatever it was, it was one of the reasons that he had hired Septima. 

“Why don’t we talk to each of the young ladies individually?” Pomona suggested, pleased that someone else was willing to give the poor orphan a chance. “Then talk to Ms. Peta-Lorrum again?” 

“I agree,” Albus replied. “We shouldn’t act without knowing the entire story. I believe the young ladies have Potions class this morning until lunch, so Minerva, as their head of house, why don’t you and I plan to meet with them in here after lunch?” 

All eyes turned to Minerva. The Headmaster had already spoken, so they knew that there was nothing further any of them could do. 

“Very well,” Minerva sighed. 

“Alright, it’s settled then,” Albus concluded. “Good day, everyone.” 

* * *

“Madame Pomfrey, is it alright if we visit with Ron?” Harry asked the Mediwitch when they arrived. 

“Only for a few minutes,” Madame Pomfrey said sternly. “Your friend still needs his rest.” 

“Understandable,” Rose replied. “He’s only level one, if that, so he’s not going to heal that many hit points after just one night’s rest.” 

Poppy eyed the girl, then dismissed the comment entirely. Too many strange things were happening today. When she checked the Weasley boy over earlier, he was fine. He had suffered several fractured ribs, and even with her magic, they should still be _cracked_ at the very least. But they weren’t. The boy didn’t have a scratch on him. 

The Gryffindors walked (or in Rose’s case, skipped) over to where Ron was resting. 

“Salutations!” Rose greeted him. 

“How are you feeling?” asked Sally-Anne. 

“Better,” Ron replied. “A lot better, actually. I woke up this morning, and I felt fine. My sides don’t hurt at all; the pain’s completely gone.” 

“Madame Pomfrey must have used some magic on you,” Hermione said. 

“I guess I just didn’t expect to be better so soon.” 

“You’ll be back up and ready for action in no time!” Rose exclaimed. 

“I’m just glad I’m not going to miss the Quidditch match tomorrow,” Ronald said. 

“Really?” Hermione asked. “After everything that happened, you’re more worried about a _sports match_?” 

“It’s not _just_ a sports match!” Ronald exclaimed. “It’s _Quidditch!_ _And_ it’s Harry’s first match! I want to be there to support him!” 

Hermione turned to Harry, then back to Ronald. 

“I guess that makes more sense. But still–” 

As the two of them continued to talk (pronounced “argue”), Harry and Sally-Anne began to talk amongst themselves. 

“Does Ron always talk this much?” asked Sally-Anne. 

“Pretty much,” Harry replied. “I don’t mind so much, since he fills me in on a lot of the Wizarding culture.” 

“Rose talks a lot, too. And when she’s not talking, Hermione usually is. I don’t mind either, since I don’t talk much.” 

“That’s alright, I guess.” Harry glanced over at Madame Pomfrey, who was starting to glare at them. “Hermione, Ron, Madame Pomfrey looks annoyed. I think that we had better get going.” 

The four Gryffindors bid their friend farewell for the time being, and left the Hospital Wing. 

As they left, Hermione glanced over at Rose, who was grinning way too much to _not_ be up to something. 

“Rose, I’m sure I’ll regret asking, but why are you grinning?” Hermione asked her friend. 

Rose continued to grin. 

“Wait,” Hermione said. “Rose, did you have something to do with Ronald getting better so quickly?” 

“Of course not!” Rose exclaimed, grinning. “What reason would I have for stopping by the Hospital Wing during the night to cast _heal_ on Ronald after cleaning up the damage done by the troll?” 

Harry and Sally-Anne stared at her. 

“Did that seem too specific to you?” Harry asked Hermione. 

“Just smile and nod, Harry,” Hermione said, as she smiled and nodded at Rose. “Just smile and nod.” 

* * *

Argus Filch approached the section of hallway where the troll had attacked. Or, where he _thought_ the troll had attacked. He was _going_ to clean up the strange dust, but found that someone had already done so. Someone had also already cleared up the wreckage. 

He stalked off, muttering under his breath. No one had _said_ that they were going to clean it, so why had they? Had they just decided not to tell him anything anymore? It wouldn’t have surprised him. Pompous wizards. 

* * *

Severus Snape had been the only one to think to check the status of the Package to verify that no one was trying to steal it last night. It would have been the perfect opportunity to go after it. 

But what did his quick thinking get him? An injured leg. As a result, he chose to sit at his desk during his class that morning, and glower at the students from afar. 

“Professor Snape, are you alright?” 

Of course, this drew the attention of Peta-Lorrum. The girl’s voice was starting to become physically painful to hear. Like nails on a chalkboard. Was she doing that on purpose? Severus groaned internally. Why couldn’t Albus just kick her out already? 

“I’m fine, Peta-Lorrum,” he growled. 

“Are you sure? Usually you’re walking around, efficiently and effortlessly striking fear into the hearts of all who enter your classroom. But you’re not doing that today. Are you challenging yourself by attempting to terrify us Gryffindors from your desk?” 

Severus would probably regret this later, but it seemed like the only way to get her to shut up. He’d tried everything else. The girl didn’t seem to care about points; every time Severus took points away, she just kept talking. It was almost as if she were _trying_ to lose points. He didn’t dare risk a detention; _that_ would be a nightmare. Any additional homework he gave the girl was on his desk first thing the next morning. Except for once, when it was on his _nightstand_ the following morning. 

Severus had to suppress a shudder. He didn’t even want to know how the girl knew where his flat was. 

“Yes,” he said, his face still devoid of all emotion. Perhaps agreeing with her would work. “You got me.” 

The crimson-haired girl beamed, and returned to her work. 

Severus would have breathed a sigh of relief if he believed in exhibiting emotions. It _actually_ worked. It was so easy… _too_ easy. It couldn’t _possibly_ be that easy to get that girl to stop talking. Severus glared at her. What was she up to? 

“What was the point of that?” whispered Sally-Anne, who was Rose’s partner that day. With Ron in the Hospital Wing, Harry was working with Hermione. 

“It’s hard not to think about something when someone else mentions it. I just hope Ref actually got something this time.” 

She looked down at the clasp that held her cloak together. 

<Ref, you get anything?>

<One word,> Reflectesalon replied. <Dog.>

Rose grinned, and jotted down “SS ∧ Dog” in her notebook. Next to it, she wrote “Fluffy?”, and circled it. 

* * *

At lunch, Professor McGonagall approached the girls at the Gryffindor table. 

“Mses. Perks, Granger, and Peta-Lorrum,” Professor McGonagall said. “Please come to the Headmaster’s office after lunch.” 

Sally-Anne and Hermione both stopped eating, and stared at her with wide eyes. 

“Don’t worry,” McGonagall reassured them. “None of you are in trouble. We would just like to talk to you about the events of last night.” 

The three girls silently nodded, and Hermione and Sally-Anne finished eating. After they were through, Professor McGonagall lead them through the castle to a gargoyle. 

“Alright, Ms. Granger, we’ll start with you,” Professor McGonagall said. She turned to the gargoyle. “Sherbet Lemon.” 

As she spoke the words, the gargoyle moved aside to allow her entry. 

Rose watched it, then began to scribble down “Sherbet Lemon” in her notebook. She recognized where they were; they were outside Professor Dumbledore’s Office. That meant that that password was connected to the Headmaster. After she was finished, she flipped back a few pages. As she read her notes, she grinned. 

“Blubber! Tweak! Oddment! Nitwit!” She looked up as Professor McGonagall and Hermione disappeared into the stairway. She turned to Sally-Anne. “Don’t you see?! It was a puzzle!” 

Sally-Anne just nodded. 

A few minutes later, Hermione came out of the office, accompanied by Professor McGonagall. 

“Ms. Perks?” 

Sally-Anne rose from her spot on the floor and followed her teacher inside. She climbed a staircase, and after going through a door, came out in Professor Dumbledore’s Office. 

“Good afternoon, Ms. Perks,” Professor Dumbledore greeted her. He offered her a basket with candy in it. “Would you care for a lemon drop?” 

“Thank you, Sir,” she said quietly, taking one of the candies. “Am… Am I in trouble?” 

“Not at all!” Professor Dumbledore replied cheerfully. “I just wanted to talk to you about what happened last night.” 

“Oh,” Sally-Anne said, looking down at the floor. “Well… err…” 

“If it’s not too much trouble, I’d like to hear your side of the story,” Dumbledore continued. “I’ve already heard Hermione’s and Rose’s sides, but there seems to be some conflict between the two. Would you be able to clear it up for me?” 

“Well… Hermione and I were on the way to the Hospital Wing to see Rose, then… then Malfoy came and… and he attacked Hermione, and messed up her legs, and he was going to attack me. But then the troll came, and he ran off, l-leaving… leaving us…” Tears formed in Sally-Anne’s eyes. “We were going to die.” 

“It’s alright, Sally-Anne,” Professor McGonagall said softly. “I give you my word that you’re safe now.” 

“When you’re ready,” Professor Dumbledore said. “Would you mind telling us what happened next?” 

Sally-Anne nodded, and after taking a moment to clear her eyes, she continued. 

“Rose found us. I don’t know how. She just… just sort of appeared there. I don’t know, I had my eyes closed. And then she blinded it with this egg thing, then fixed Hermione’s legs, and we ran off.“ 

“Then what happened?” McGonagall asked. 

“Then… then we found Harry and Ron, and… and…” Tears returned to the young Gryffindor’s eyes. “It was… it was horrible.” 

“The dragon?” Dumbledore asked. 

Sally-Anne looked up at him. 

“How did you know?” 

“As I said, I’ve already spoken to your friend Hermione. She told me that you found something that seemed to be a cross between a dragon and a snake.” 

“Yes, Sir. It… it shot fire at us… and Harry and Ron tried throwing rocks at it so we could run, but there was nowhere to run. It… it attacked them… then Rose…” 

Sally-Anne suddenly felt ill. Remembering what Rose had done to that thing… it was enough to make anyone sick. 

“It’s alright,” Dumbledore said. “You don’t need to tell us anything else. You may go.” 

Sally-Anne got up to leave. 

“Oh, and Sally-Anne?” 

She turned back to face the Headmaster. 

“Fifteen points for bravery the likes of which I have rarely seen in someone so young. Well done.” 

As the young Gryffindor left, Albus turned to Minerva. 

“Both girls gave similar accounts,” Minerva said. “Both of which conflict with what Ms. Peta-Lorrum told us. She lied to you, Albus.” 

“As I suspected from the beginning,” he said. Minerva eyed him. “She may be an excellent liar, but her friends gave her away immediately. What I don’t know is _why_ she lied, and I would very much like to know.” 

* * *

A few minutes after Sally-Anne sat down, Professor McGonagall walked out of the Headmaster’s office. 

“Mses. Granger and Perks, if you would please follow me, I’ll escort you back to Gryffindor Tower.” _See how confident Lucius Junior is when a_ teacher _is escorting them._ “Ms. Peta-Lorrum, the Headmaster would like to talk with you.” 

“Okay!” Rose turned to her friends. “See ya later!” 

Rose skipped up the stairs, and entered the Headmaster’s Office. 

“Salutations, Professor Dumbledore!” 

“Rose, I’m going to be blunt,” Dumbledore said after Rose had sat down. “I know you lied to me about what happened last night.” 

“That’s because I don’t like talking about dragons, Sir,” she replied. “So I made up a story to cover up the dragon so I wouldn’t have to talk about it.” 

“Why don’t you like talking about dragons?” 

“Dragon killed me once. It hurt a lot.” 

“I’m sorry, but I must confess that I do not understand,” Albus replied. “What do you mean ‘killed’?” 

“I mean there was a bloody hole in my chest!” Rose half-shouted, jumping out of her chair. “What do you _think_ I mean?!” 

_Dragons. Touchy subject_ , Albus noted. “Rose, please calm down.” 

Rose eased up, and sat back in her chair. “I’m calm.” 

“Alright,” Albus said calmly. “Now, here’s what your friends have told me. After Mr. Malfoy attacked Sally-Anne and Hermione, Sally-Anne attempted to carry Hermione, but was unable to do so. Hermione used an object you gave her to contact you, then you appeared in front of them, stopping the troll’s club. Neither girl knows how, as both of them had their eyes closed.” 

Rose raised her hand. 

“Yes?” 

“If you tell me all of this, what’s to stop me from agreeing with you?” 

“I’m not asking whether I’m correct. I have already received two accounts of these events that conflicted with your original story. The other two girls gave me accounts that were similar to one another, but not similar enough that they sounded rehearsed, which leads me to believe that their accounts are in fact correct. Not only that, but they are not nearly as good at lying as you are. Therefore, I am not verifying events, I just need you to fill in a few holes.” 

“Then you should probably skip ahead to the questions.” 

“How did you kill the troll?” 

“ _Crimson Thorn_. Two hits, one to take off its arm, thus disarming it, and a second hit, which dealt lethal damage enhanced by power attack. Using him as a two-handed weapon doubled the damage from power attack, and scoring a critical hit further increased that damage.” 

“What is _Crimson Thorn_?” 

Rose held out her right hand, and a ruby red rod appeared in it. She pushed a button, and after a second, and a series of clicks, a pair of crimson blades shot out of the rod. She stared back at the Headmaster, then pushed the button again. The weapon folded back up, and vanished. 

_So it_ is _a sword._

“Why, might I ask, are you carrying a dangerous weapon with you?” 

“I made him!” she exclaimed. “I also need to defend myself against anything that might try to do me harm.” Growling, she added, “Like dragons.” 

Very _touchy subject_ , Albus noted. 

“Also, if we want to talk about dangerous weapons, what about those wands you’ve got?” 

“But we are teaching students how to properly use their wands.” 

“I’ve got Weapon Supremacy with _Crimson Thorn_.” 

“I’m sorry?” 

“I get a +4 to resist being disarmed, I can use him while grappled, I can apply a +5 bonus to a single attack, I can freaking take 10 on an attack roll _once per round_ , _and_ I get a +1 to AC.” The “Scottish” girl grinned. “It’s the culmination of the weapon feats.” 

Albus paused for a moment, attempting to comprehend his student’s last statement. 

“Alright, then I’ll try it this way,” Albus said. “The rest of the staff are concerned that you may be a threat to the other students.” 

“If word got out that I seriously hurt a student,” Rose began. “My uncle would lecture me in the most boring tone imaginable for three days straight, my brother’s girlfriend would throw me through a window, my sister would beat me upside the head, and my brother would give me his ‘I’m very disappointed in you’ look, which makes me burst into tears and apologize for anything and everything that pops into my head. So, I have _no_ intention of severely injuring any of the students. Especially not with _Crimson Thorn_! That would be silly!” 

Albus thought for a moment. The girl didn’t _look_ to be lying to him, but it was always possible that she was just better at lying than he thought. 

“Besides which, Ref would stop me!” 

“Your imaginary friend?” 

“Yup!” Rose exclaimed. “Oh, speaking of which, Professor, while we’re sharing, I have a question for you.” 

“Go right ahead.” 

“I’ve mentioned that Ref can read minds. The strange thing is, he can’t read yours. Or Professors Snape’s or Quirrell’s. How come?” 

“It’s a practice known as Occlumency. It allows a person to protect their mind from invasion. In fact, Professor Snape is convinced that you are capable of such a feat as well.” 

“No, that’s definitely not a feat,” Rose replied. “But I think I’ve heard that somewhere before.” She pulled out her notebook and flipped through it. “Aha! That was the word the Sorting Hat used!” 

“So it was unable to read your mind as well?” asked the Headmaster. 

“Yup! I had already decided that I wanted to be in Gryffindor, though. I get into too much trouble to be a Hufflepuff.” 

“I see,” Dumbledore said. He decided that the question of how she was doing that could wait. “My turn: How did you contact me last night?” 

“Intelligencer!” Rose exclaimed. She pulled out her basket, and from it flew Intelligencer. He flew around Rose, then perched on her shoulder, eyeing the phoenix sitting next to the Headmaster’s desk. “He’s an expeditious messenger.” 

“I see,” Albus repeated, not seeing. “I’m not sure I’m familiar.” 

“An expeditious messenger allows the crafter to communicate through it!” 

“Now I see. Interesting. And with that, I believe I am finished.” 

“One more thing, Headmaster,” Rose said as she rose from her seat. “How were people supposed to get ‘Sherbet Lemon’ from ‘Nitwit, blubber, oddment, tweak’?” 

Professor Dumbledore gave her a grandfatherly smile. “It becomes much easier when one knows that I enjoy sweets.” 

“Oh.” 

* * *

“She stays.” 

Albus’ four heads of house had joined him once again in his office that evening. With the exception of Pomona, they were all shocked to hear this. 

“There is certainly more to here than meets the eye, but she is stable, and knows that the consequences for harming anyone are severe. Further, she assures me that she has a system in place to prevent her from harming students.” 

“With all due respect, Albus,” Minerva said, “we all thought _Sirius Black_ was stable.” 

“I didn’t,” muttered Severus. 

“My point is that sometimes it’s impossible to tell.” 

“I did not say that we would not watch her,” Albus said. “If anyone sees something that she does that they believe constitutes a threat to anyone, I am to be notified immediately.” 

Each professor nodded their agreement in turn. 

_Great_ , thought Severus. _I’m_ never _going to get rid of her._

* * *

**Note:** For all who _didn’t_ take a logic class in college, ∧ is a “logical and”, which Rose picked up because logical symbols exist on De’rok as well as E’arth. 

Also, most normal girls talk about clothes or shoes (I think, I don’t actually know any normal girls). _Rose_ talks about equipment and character progressions! 


	13. What's a Quidditch?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we all learn all about Quidditch, and what a fun, exciting game it is.

**Disclaimer** Quidditch (N.) Along with Harry Potter, something owned by J.K. Rowling. 

* * *

By Saturday morning, news that a first-year Gryffindor student had killed a troll had circulated throughout the entire school. Rose remain oblivious to this fact, but Hermione hadn’t. She noticed other students whispering and looking her way during breakfast, but couldn’t tell if they were looking at _her_ or at Rose. 

Fortunately for Hermione, of equal importance to many students was the first Quidditch match of the season. It was between Gryffindor and Slytherin, which made it Harry’s first game as Seeker. Madame Pomfrey had even allowed Ron to leave the Hospital Wing to watch the match, although that might have been due in part to him no longer being injured. 

“What _is_ Quidditch?” asked Sally-Anne on their way to the Quidditch Pitch. 

“It’s a sport that you play on a broom,” Ronald explained. “There are three Chasers that pass around the Quaffle, that’s the red ball, and they try to score on the other team. Then there are two Beaters that keep the Bludgers off the other players. Those are the black balls that fly around and try to knock people off their brooms.” 

“What?!” Hermione practically shrieked. “They try to knock the players off of their brooms?!” 

“Yeah,” Ronald replied simply. “Anyway, then there’s the Keeper that tries to stop the other team from scoring, and then there’s the Seeker. That’s what position Harry’s playing. The Seeker tries to catch the Golden Snitch, and if he does, it will end the match and score 150 points for the team!” 

“Wow,” Sally-Anne replied. “How much is each goal worth?” 

“Ten points.” 

“So that means that the Seeker scores the equivalent of 15 goals when they catch the Snitch,” Hermione said. 

“Yeah,” Ron said. “It’s a lot of fun! I play at home with my brothers all the time!” 

“I’ll take your word for it,” Hermione said. “I guess I’m just not one for flying.” 

“Harry’s _so_ lucky to get to play as a _first-year_. They _never_ let first-years play!” 

“Well, _yeah_ ,” Rose said. “He’s a _PC!_ PCs _always_ get treated specially! It’s how the story progresses! Can’t have a story without events! Duh!” 

Ron looked at Hermione and Sally-Anne. “Does she _ever_ make sense?” 

Hermione sighed. “Spend enough time around her, Ron, and she starts to.” 

Ron looked at Rose, who grinned back at him and nodded. 

The Gryffindors took their seats, and shortly after, the match began. 

As Madame Hooch blew her whistle, fourteen students kicked off from the ground, flying into the air. 

Hermione was already a little shaky about flying, and watching the players fly at such high speeds was _not_ helping. They would fly straight up, or dodge down, or spin around in midair. 

She glanced over and saw Rose writing something in her notebook. Hermione stole a glance at the notebook, and realized that she couldn’t read what was written in it. 

“It’s Celestial,” Rose said, not looking up from her notebook. “Otherwise known as the Language of the Angels. It was easier to write in Celestial than Ignan, which was my original idea.” 

“How many languages do you know?” Hermione asked. 

“All of them,” Rose replied, still not looking up. 

“How is that possible?” 

“ _Tongues_ , and occasionally _comprehend languages_.” She looked up. “If only I could just cast _permanency_ , then I could just keep _comprehend languages_ on me all the time.” Rose’s eyes grew wider, and she struck herself in the forehead. “Duh! I _can_ cast _permanency!_ Why don’t I do that now while my brain still works?” Her wand appeared in her hand, and she tapped herself with it. “ _Comprehend Languages_.” She tapped herself a second time, muttering, “ _Permanency_.” 

“Okay, so what did that do?” asked Hermione as Rose’s wand vanished. 

“Now all I need to do is touch something, and I can understand it!” 

“How long does that charm last?” 

“Forever! That’s why it’s called _permanency_. It’s _permanent!_ ” 

“Can you do that to anyone?” 

“Sadly, no. That particular use only allows me to use it on myself. If you’d like, there _are_ uses of it that work on other people!” 

“Like what?” asked Hermione, interested. 

“ _Blindsight_ , _air breathing_ , _low-light vision_ , _invisibility_ , _telepathic bond_ , _scent_ …” 

“I’m going to stop you there before we get too far from sanity.” 

“Suit yourself!” Rose said, returning to her notebook. 

“I don’t know, I guess I was just hoping for something like the bracelet.” 

“How’s that been treating you?” Rose asked, still looking at her notebook. “Still getting headaches?” 

“It’s not so bad,” Hermione said. “I still can’t believe that I can just touch a book and read it.” 

“ _You can touch a book and read it?!_ ” exclaimed Ron. “Like the whole thing?!” 

Hermione nodded hesitantly. 

“ _Where do I sign up?!_ ” 

Hermione pointed at Rose, who raised her hand. 

“Can you–” 

Ron was cut off by Sally-Anne, who screamed. The three Gryffindors looked up to see Harry’s broom thrashing about with him on it. It reminded Hermione of a bucking bronco, trying to throw the Seeker off of it. 

The audience began standing up, everyone trying to get a better view of what was happening in the air. 

“Harry’s going to get thrown off of his broom!” Ron exclaimed. 

“What do we do?!” Sally-Anne asked, turning to Hermione. 

“I don’t know,” Hermione said. “I’ve read about the sort of charms they’ve got on brooms. A lot of them are protected by patents, but it must be nearly impossible to tamper with a broom while it’s in flight.” 

“What are you saying?” asked Ron. 

“I’m saying that a student probably couldn’t be doing this,” Hermione replied. She looked out over the crowd, and as much as she didn’t want to believe it, she found the culprit. 

Professor Snape was staring straight at Harry, muttering under his breath. He was maintaining continuous, unbroken eye contact. 

Hermione had read about jinxes, and that was exactly how she imagined one would look. 

“It’s Snape!” she gasped. “He’s jinxing Harry’s broom!” 

“I knew it!” Ron exclaimed. “I _knew_ Snape was evil!” 

“What do we do?” Sally-Anne repeated. “I don’t think anyone else sees him.” 

“We’ve got to do something!” exclaimed Ron. “Harry’s going to die!” 

“Hermione, what’s it mean if _two_ people are staring at Harry, muttering under their breath?” 

Hermione, Ron, and Sally-Anne turned to look at Rose. She had closed her notebook, and was now looking towards the field. Unlike everyone else, she was fixated on a point towards the ground. No, not quite the ground, Hermione realized, towards the front row of stands. 

“What?” asked Hermione. 

“Professor Quirrell is _also_ staring at Harry. The two of them are acting identically. They’re both staring at Harry, making no reaction otherwise.” 

“He might be trying a counter-curse,” Hermione said. 

“What’s a counter-curse?” asked Sally-Anne. 

“It’s _got_ to be Snape!” exclaimed Ronald. 

“Doubtful,” Rose said. 

Ron and Hermione turned to stare at Rose. 

“Why?” asked Hermione sceptically. 

“How long has Professor Snape been here?” 

“I dunno,” Ronald replied. “He was here when Bill and Charlie were here, so at least seven years.” 

“Which means that Professor Dumbledore has watched Professor Snape for at least seven years,” Rose reasoned, nodding towards Professor Snape. “The way the Headmaster acts, I think he takes the safety of his students _very_ seriously. Which means there’s _no way_ that Professor Dumbledore would allow Professor Snape to continue here if he thought that there were _any_ chance that Professor Snape was a danger to the students.” Rose looked over at where Professor Quirrell was standing. “Professor _Quirrell_ , on the other hand, is new or something, and Ref can’t read his mind. I’d say it’s him.” 

The Gryffindors turned to look at Professor Quirrell. Just as Rose had said, he was _also_ staring straight at Harry, not blinking, and muttering under his breath. Hermione turned to look at Rose. 

“What if you’re wrong?” 

“If I’m wrong, then you’ve got Professor Dumbledore right over there, ready to catch him. We’ve also got Professor Flitwick, who must have reflexes like lightning, and can probably cast _fly_ , or _feather fall_ , or whatever you lot have got on Harry. I’m sure he’ll be fine.” 

* * *

“Albus, shouldn’t we be doing something?” Minerva asked the Headmaster. 

Unlike most of the rest of the audience, Albus was not staring at Potter, but instead he was looking across the stands at Potter’s friends. They were _also_ not watching Potter, but seemed to be talking amongst themselves. Minerva was almost certain that she saw Peta-Lorrum nod her head in some direction, but Minerva couldn’t see why. 

“Albus?” she repeated. 

“He’ll be fine,” Albus replied absently. “Plans are being drawn up as we speak. Harry will be quite safe. You’ve nothing to worry about, Minerva.” 

Minerva opened her mouth to argue, then just sighed. Sometimes it felt like she was the only responsible one amongst a group of children. 

* * *

“This has got to be the _worst_ assassination attempt I’ve ever seen,” Rose said, frowning. 

“Because it’s the _only_ attempt you’ve ever seen?” asked Ron. 

“No,” Rose said simply. “Although, I guess it’s not really fair to compare this to Shadow. She’s a natural at stealth.” 

Ron stared at Rose. 

“Disbelieve her later, Ron,” Hermione said. 

“Right,” Ron said. “We’ve got four of us, and two of them, so why don’t we take out _both_ of them?” 

“Whatever you’re gonna do, do it fast!” Sally-Anne said, looking up at Harry. The Seeker was hanging onto his broom with one hand, and slowly losing his grip. 

“We can’t go after Quirrell,” Hermione said. “He’s out in the open!” 

“I’ll take care of Quirrell,” Rose said, her wand appearing in her hand. “I can pass undetected.” She muttered something under her breath, waved her wand, and vanished. 

“How did she do that?” asked Ron. 

“Maaaaagic!” Rose replied in a sing-song voice. “Seriously, Cohort, how _else_ would I do that?” 

“I’ll go after Snape!” Hermione said, and began to run off. “Stay here!” 

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” muttered Ron. One of those two professors was most likely trying to _kill_ Harry. Ron really didn’t want to know what they would do to the people that _stopped_ them. 

* * *

< _Serendipity_ has got one charge left on her, so I can just use that, > Rose pathed to Reflectesalon. <I’m not really sure how this whole ’jinxing’ thing works, but he seems to need to maintain eye contact.>

<I’m not sure what spells would work for that,> Reflectesalon replied. <It _is_ Saturday. Perhaps your brother is not busy? >

<I’ll try him,> Rose replied. <Sk’lar, are you there? Eom.>

<I’m here, Rose,> came her big brother’s “voice”. <Are you alright? Eom.>

<Oh, I’m lovely! I need a non-damaging spell that can break eye-contact.>

There was a pause, then <Why?>

<There’s no time to explain!>

Sk’lar sighed in her head. <Can’t you just use a _dust eggshell grenade_ or _alchemical sun flash_? >

<Sure, but I’ve still got a charge on _Serendipity_ , so I want to use that up first.>

<Alright, then you’ll want to use _glitterdust_ , assuming that they can’t make the Will save.>

<Thank you!>

<You’re welcome. _Please_ contact me soon. >

<Will do!> she replied quickly. <Rose out!>

<Sk’lar out.>

Rose pointed _Serendipity_ at Professor Quirrell, and grinned. Rose knew that _glitterdust_ was one of Sk’lar’s favorite spells, right behind _freezing fog_ and _grease_. It’s uses were many, and it was _brilliant_ at lower levels. She had never got a chance to use it until now. Even if he made the Will save, it would still startle him. 

“ _Glitterdust!_ ” 

* * *

Hermione raced through the stands towards Professor Snape. She already had a plan: bluebell flame. It generated no heat, but would certainly cause a distraction that would break Snape’s jinx. 

Creeping up behind the Potions Master, she quietly whispered the incantation. 

“ _Lacarnum Inflamari._ ” 

A bright blue bolt shot out of her wand and struck Professor Snape’s robes. The instant the bolt hit them, the robes caught fire. 

After what felt like an eternity to Hermione, Snape smelled the smoke and broke his eye contact. Now came the hard part: getting _out_ without Snape noticing her. 

_Probably should’ve asked if Rose could make_ me _invisible._

Hermione pulled out a jar and scooped the flames into it. She liked that about the bluebell flame; it was easily transported and could be a good source of light if necessary. Jamming the jar into her robes, she ran as fast as she could back to where her friends were sitting. Glancing over towards the front stands, she noticed that several of the people in them were covered in some sort of glitter. Many of them were clutching at their eyes, struggling to see. 

Hermione looked up towards Harry and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the Seeker slowly climbing back onto his broom. 

“Rose, what did you do to them?” she panted as she got back to her friends. 

“ _Glitterdust_ ,” Rose replied, grinning. “Spectacular spell for blinding opponents. I’m a little surprised that _no one_ made their saves, though. What about you?” 

“Bluebell flame,” Hermione replied, holding up the jar. “It looks like we definitely got rid of the problem for now. I just still can’t believe that a _teacher_ tried to kill him.” 

“We should tell Professor McGonagall after the match,” Sally-Anne said. 

“What if she doesn’t listen?” asked Ron. “We’re only first-years.” 

“We’re _her_ first-years,” Rose said. “And if _she_ doesn’t listen, then Professor Dumbledore _will_.” 

* * *

After Harry made a diving catch for the Golden Snitch, falling off his broom in the process, the match finished with Gryffindor winning. Ron, along with most of Gryffindor house, ran out to congratulate Harry on the win. Hermione and Rose tried to get to Professor McGonagall, but were dragged off instead by Hagrid and the boys to Hagrid’s hut for some tea. 

“So you’re saying someone was jinxing my broom?” Harry asked them on the way to the hut after the others had finished explaining it. 

“It was Professor Snape!” Ron blurted out. 

“No ‘twasn’t!” shouted Hagrid. “Couldn’t a been Snape!” 

“He _was_ staring straight at Harry’s broom,” Hermione said. “It looked an awful lot like–” 

“Now see here,” Hagrid interrupted. “Professor Dumbledore trusts Snape, and so do I! No way ‘e was tryin’ ter kill Harry!” 

“Professor Qu–” Sally-Anne began. 

“I don’t want ter hear anymore about professors murdering students!” shouted Hagrid. “Professor Dumbledore ‘andpicked each member o’ the staff! He would _never_ pick someone that would try ter ‘arm any o’ the students!” 

“What about–” Rose tried, but she was cut off as well. 

“No!” 

The girls were fairly quiet after that. Hermione and Sally-Anne quietly sipped their tea, while Rose sat in the corner and drew. 

“I’ve got something I need to do in the castle,” Rose said eventually. “I’ll meet you lot back at Gryffindor Tower later.” 

“Shouldn’t we go with you?” Sally-Anne asked. “So you don’t get lost?” 

“I’ll be fine,” Rose replied. “I know my way, and I move faster on my own.” 

The crimson-haired girl skipped cheerfully out of the hut and up to the castle. 

* * *

Quirinius needed to relax, although he knew that he certainly wouldn’t be able to, not after not one, but _two_ failures. As if Snape breathing down his neck wasn’t bad enough, _He_ was _always_ watching Quirinius. 

Quirinius knew the Potions Master was onto him. If only Snape would slip up for a moment, Quirinius would be able to figure out how to get past Snape’s obstacle. That would only leave Professors Vector and Babbling, but Merlin only knew what sort of _nightmares_ those two had cooked up. 

And then there was the Peta-Lorrum girl, who had somehow managed to kill a mountain troll single-handed. If it hadn’t been for her, his first plan would’ve gone off perfectly. No one had even asked where he had been during the troll attack; the other staff just assumed he was cowering in some dark corner. It seemed that it was only that overgrown bat Snape that suspected Quirinius of being up to something. 

It wasn’t going to be easy to remove Peta-Lorrum, but it might be possible. If only there were some way of getting the girl alone, isolated, where he could just kill her and make it look like an accident. He knew plenty of dark magic; he also had the world’s leading expert on the subject willing to help Quirinius as long as it suited Him. How would he ever get the girl alone? 

Quirinius reached his office, opened the door, and found the answer to his question sitting at his desk. No, not _at_ his desk, _on_ his desk, was none other than Rose Peta-Lorrum herself. Her feet were dangling over the edge as she smiled back at the professor. 

_Happy Birthday, me._

“Salutations, Professor Quirrell!” 

“M-m-ms. P-p-peta-l-l-lorrum,” Quirinius stammered, closing the door behind him. “W-w-what are you d-d-doing here?” 

“I had a request to make.” 

“R-r-req-q-quest?” 

“Yup,” the crimson-haired girl replied. She hopped up on Professor Quirrell’s desk, then extended her arm, pointing directly at the Defence Professor. “Tell me the whole plan!” 

For a moment, neither of them said anything. Rose stood on Quirrell’s desk, standing sideways to the Professor, her finger pointing at him. She looked _way_ too proud of herself, as Quirinius attempted to process the scene in front of him. 

“P-p-plan?” 

“The plan to kill Harry, of course.” 

_What?_

“Whatever do you mean?” he asked the crimson-haired girl as she put her arm down. 

“There’s only one Harry at this school. Remember, he almost fell off of his broom today? That was _really_ sloppy, by the way. Professor Dumbledore was _right there_ , waiting to catch him if he fell. And that’s assuming that none of his teammates could catch him, _and_ none of the students could catch him, _and_ none of the other _professors_ could catch him. I mean seriously, haven’t you ever killed someone before? You want to get them secluded, out of the way, and make it look like an accident.” 

_Yes. Yes I do._

“Of course I want to know why,” Peta-Lorrum said, jumping down off of Quirinius’ desk. “Although, it’s probably because you’re working for…” She pulled out a notebook and flipped through it. Stopping on one page, she read, “Voldemort.” 

_WHAT?_

“I’m sorry?” 

“Why else would you want to kill Harry of all people?” she asked, putting away the notebook. 

“I’m sorry, but I think you’re confused, little girl,” Quirinius said. 

“Probably, but not about this,” Peta-Lorrum replied. She walked towards Quirinius, who went for his wand. By the time he had pulled it, Peta-Lorrum had vanished, rose petals fluttering in her wake. 

“Just know that I’m watching you, Professor Quirrell,” he heard from behind him. 

Quirinius spun around to see Peta-Lorrum now standing behind him. She had already opened the door, and was walking out of the room. 

“And if you ever try to hurt my friends again,” she added, “I’ll make you regret it.” 

She beamed at him and left the room, leaving Quirinius staring at the now closed door. 

* * *

Hermione and Sally-Anne sat in their room Sunday evening. Both girls wanted to tell their respective families about the events that had transpired over the past few days, but neither girl could think of what to tell them. 

“What about… no, that wouldn’t work,” Hermione said for the third time. 

“Whatcha doing?” 

“Ah!” both girls shouted. 

Not for the first time, Rose had appeared next to them out of nowhere, accompanied by fluttering rose petals. 

“Rose,” Hermione panted. “Why do you insist on doing that?” 

“It’s faster than walking,” she replied simply. She looked down at the blank sheets of parchment in front of either girl. “Homework?” 

Sally-Anne shook her head. 

“Writing letters to home,” Sally-Anne said. 

“Trying to, anyway,” Hermione added. 

“What’s the problem?” 

“We can’t figure out how to phrase ‘A troll broke in and almost killed us’ in a way that won’t have our parents up in arms,” Hermione said. 

“Oh,” Rose said. Suddenly she exclaimed, “Let’s go ask Professor McGonagall! She’ll know!” 

Without waiting for the girls to answer, Rose began to skip off down the stairs. 

The other two girls exchanged glances. 

“That’s actually not a bad idea,” Sally-Anne said. 

“Yeah,” Hermione agreed. 

The two girls got up and ran after their friend. 

Rose led them through the castle, and before long, they were standing in front of a portrait. 

“Rose, where are we?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“Each of the Professors stay in an flat when they’re not in their offices,” Rose explained. “This one happens to be Professor McGonagall’s.” 

“I’m sorry little girl,” the man in the portrait said, “but you are mistaken. There is nothing behind my portrait.” 

“We are the three Muggle-born girls that were attacked by the troll Thursday night,” Rose said. “We need Professor McGonagall’s help with informing our families of these events.” 

“I would suggest that you don’t,” the man said. Hermione glanced down and saw the name Walter Lengert. “Muggles may have a difficult time understanding what happened.” 

“We appreciate your help,” Hermione said, “but we’d really like to talk to Professor McGonagall.” 

“And I already told you, she isn’t here!” 

Rose rolled her eyes and walked to the portrait. Then, she walked _through_ the portrait. A few seconds later, the portrait swung open, revealing a small flat. 

“Told ya!” Rose shouted as the two girls climbed through. 

“Why do you girls require my assistance?” Professor McGonagall asked them. 

“Well, Ma’am,” Hermione began nervously. “Sally-Anne and I were trying to write our parents, but we don’t know what to write.” 

“I see,” Professor McGonagall said. “Well, you two aren’t the first Muggle-born students to have difficulty explaining our world to your parents, and I’m sure you won’t be the last.” 

“So what do we do?” asked Sally-Anne. 

“I once had a student named Lily Evans,” she said. “Brilliant Gryffindor Muggle-born girl. She was finishing her time here at Hogwarts when the First Wizarding War began. Lily didn’t tell her family about what was happening, and I believe that they resented her for her gifts. Mind you, her situation was not typical, as her family wasn’t particularly fond of magic to begin with, but her distance only made it worse.” 

“But,” Hermione said softly. She looked down at the ground. “I don’t want to leave.” 

“Ms. Granger, these events aren’t typical of Hogwarts. Professor Quirrell mistakenly lowered one of the wards to allow a troll to enter for a class, I believe, and forgot to restore them.” 

No one was really sure when Rose’s notebook had made it to her hand, but she was furiously scribbling something in it. 

“If it would help,” Professor McGonagall continued, “I will write letters to each of your families myself, assuring them of this fact.” She paused for a moment, considering her next statement. “However, I would ask that you _not_ explain the dr–” She glanced over at Rose, who was glaring at her. “Other creature, as we still don’t know what it was, or how it got here. You may do as you choose, but that is my recommendation.” 

“Thank you, Ma’am,” Hermione and Sally-Anne said. 

“My pleasure,” Professor McGonagall replied. “Ms. Granger, you are one of the brightest students I have ever had the pleasure to teach. Ms. Perks, I have seen few Gryffindors ever display the bravery you showed against the troll. I would hate to have to give either of you up to Beauxbatons or Durmstrang.” 

“What about me?” asked Rose, smiling. 

“You are… unique.” 

Rose beamed. 

_Among other things that I probably shouldn’t say_ , added Minerva silently as the girls left her flat. 

* * *

<Before I say anything, I just want to point out that it was _not my fault_ ,> Rose began later that night. <I was _not_ looking for trouble… _this_ time. Eom. >

<What’d you kill this time, Rose?> Carolina asked. <Eom.>

Rose started out by contacting her brother, but after giving him the highlights of the past few days, he brought Shadow, Bowie, and Carolina in on the conversation. 

<I never said I killed anything!> Rose exclaimed defensively. 

<I’m sorry, Rose, I didn’t mean for it to sound like I was blaming anything on you.>

<It’s alright, Carolina.>

<What _did_ happen? > asked Sk’lar. 

<Hermione was upset last week and thinking of leaving, so I figured I’d give her one of my two _seashells_ just in case she needed it, and then on Thursday, I started hearing voices again, so I went to the Hospital Wing, and that evening I get a message from Hermione asking for help. Turns out, she and Sally-Anne found a giant, although everyone here keeps calling it a troll for some reason, but don’t worry, the thing was squishy, and I took it out with no problems, but it nearly killed the girls. >

<What?> Sk’lar asked. 

<Please tell me you didn’t kill it,> Carolina pathed. 

<It gets better,> Rose pathed bitterly. <There was a… dragon.>

<I am so sorry, Rose,> her brother pathed. <Are you alright?>

<It was _also_ squishy and went down with only four or so hits. >

Had it been anything else, Carolina would have scolded Rose for killing not one, but _two_ “innocent creatures”. But, seeing as they all knew _why_ Rose didn’t like dragons, Carolina let it go. 

<It could’ve been worse,> Bowie pathed. <Wait, what color was it?>

<Green.>

<See? Could’ve been worse.>

<It’s a little disturbing that these creatures were able to enter the grounds in the first place,> Sk’lar pathed. 

<Don’t they have some kind of security on the place?> Alice, who had been silent until then, asked. 

<ALICE!>

<Hi, Rosie!>

<Please stop shouting,> Shadow requested. 

<Sorry, Shadow,> Alice pathed. 

<Sorry, Sweety,> Rose replied. 

<Don’t call me ’Sweety’,> Shadow pathed. 

<Alice has got a point,> Sk’lar pathed. <Aren’t there protections from incursions such as these?>

<Question,> Carolina pathed. 

<Incursion means ’invasion’ or ’infiltration’,> Sk’lar replied. 

<Thank you.>

<They’ve got wards set up, but one of the professors took one of them down to bring in a giant for one of his classes.>

<Wards?> Bowie asked. 

<Yeah, defensive spells and the like,> Rose pathed. <I’m not really sure how they work, but it might be worth noting that this same professor attempted to kill Harry the other day.>

<Which one’s Harry?> Carolina asked. 

<The boy who stopped the BBEG about a decade ago.>

<One of the _professors_ tried to kill a _student_? > Sk’lar asked. Rose could sense the contained rage in his voice. <And the Headmaster _allowed_ the professor to _continue teaching_? >

<Sk’lar, relax,> Carolina pathed gently. 

<I’m not sure he knows yet,> Rose pathed. <Besides which, it’s the one position that they can’t fill. I think they’ve got a backup for every other position except that one. The Defence Against the Dark Arts position has been filled by a different professor every year now for over twenty years. I’ve read that they’ve gone through more than one in some years. No one applies anymore.>

<That _can’t_ be a coincidence, > Shadow pathed. <Someone’s offing the professors.>

<Apparently, the BBEG applied for the position, and when he didn’t get it, he cursed it.>

<Can they really do that?> Carolina asked. <I mean, put a curse on a _job_? >

<I don’t know,> Rose pathed. <There’s a lot of magic here that I don’t recognize, but I’m told that there are rules for the magic here, but I’d need to take a class called Arithmancy to learn them. I’ve read over some textbooks for it, so I’m starting to get an idea for it. It’s based a lot on mathematics, so that’s been fun.>

<Ugh,> Carolina, Bowie, and Alice groaned simultaneously. 

<It’s not _so_ bad, > Rose replied. <The textbooks are really boring, so I can’t actually make it through any of them without using _scholar’s touch_ , but otherwise it seems interesting.>

<The simpler explanation is that someone is simply _killing_ the professors, > Shadow pathed. 

< _Really?_ > Bowie gasped. <Ms. ’It must be this overly complicated plan’ is suggesting that we go with the _simple_ explanation? >

<I can _feel_ Shadow glaring at you right now, Sir Scaley, > Rose pathed. 

<Yeah, I’m not sure I should be alone right now,> Bowie pathed. 

<Yeah, _that’ll_ help, > Rose scoffed. <She’s right, though. It’s possible the BBEG’s followers have just been killing off the other professors, but I think this one _is_ one of his followers. >

<Maybe that’s the thing,> Alice pathed. <Maybe his people are killing off the ones that _don’t_ follow him, and the other professors are removing the ones that _do_ follow him. >

<That makes sense.>

<How did he try to kill Harry?> asked Sk’lar. 

<They don’t use magic here to fly for some reason, but instead they use brooms. Weird, but I guess it’s their thing. So, they have this sport called Quidditch which is designed to emphasis one player on each team, called the ’Seeker’, while the other six are there for filler. Naturally, Harry was selected as Seeker, being one of the PCs. While he’s up there playing the game, his broom starts trying to throw him off. Hermione, being the smart one, spots Professor Snape staring at him. She said it was probably a jinx, which sounds like some sort of concentration spell. Anyway, _I_ see Professor Quirrell doing the same thing. I was looking for him since Ref can’t read his mind, which has led me to be suspicious of him from the start. Hermione and I distract the two professors, which allowed Harry to regain control of his broom. >

<Which is why you needed to know a non-damaging spell to blind someone,> Sk’lar pathed. <Which one’s the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor?>

<Professor Quirrell,> replied Rose. <Professor Snape has been here for _years_ , and he dresses almost identically to Shadow.>

<So he walks around drawing suspicion to himself, but Professor Dumbledore doesn’t fire him. Probably means that Professor Dumbledore _trusts_ him. >

<That’s what Mr. Hagrid said!>

<Which one’s Mr. Hagrid?> Carolina asked. 

<The Grounds Keeper. Seems to be a big fan of the Headmaster.>

<So all of this means that Professor Quirrell is most likely the guilty one,> Shadow concluded. 

<Were the rest of the staff there when he tried to kill Harry?> Alice asked. 

<Yup.>

<And he thought that would _work_? > asked Shadow. <He must be new at this whole ’evil’ thing.>

<That’s almost exactly what I said!> Rose exclaimed, grinning. 

Carolina sighed. <You confronted him, didn’t you?>

<Well, _yeah_! He tried to kill one of my new friends! >

<That’s my girl!> Alice exclaimed. 

Carolina sighed again. 

<Don’t give me that,> Rose pathed. <You know you love us!>

<Yes, but sometimes I feel like I’m the only responsible one among a group of children.>

<That’s because you _are_ the only responsible one among a group of children, > Bowie pathed. 

<I think it’s about time that we all got some rest,> Sk’lar pathed. <Rose, stay safe. Sk’lar out.>

<Try not to have _too_ much fun without us. Alice out. >

<Take care, Rose. Bowie out.>

<Try not to kill anything else. Carolina out.>

<Sk’lar and Bowie: Will do. Alice and Carolina: No promises,> Rose pathed. 

<Your Minions all say ’hi’,> pathed Shadow. <And… and they think it’s lonely here without you.>

<Tell them I say ’hi’ back,> Rose pathed. <I miss them, and you, too, Sweety.>

<Don’t call me ’Sweety’. Shadow out.>

<Rose out.>

* * *

Sally-Anne looked over at Rose, who seemed to be silently conversing with someone. 

“Hey, Hermione,” Sally-Anne whispered. “What’s Rose doing?” 

Hermione glanced over at Rose, then turned back to the dirty-blonde girl. “She’s talking with her imaginary friends.” 

“Oh. Okay.” 

Sally-Anne wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad thing that not only did that explanation make perfect sense to her, but it seemed like a _good_ explanation too. 


	14. Letters from Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which many letters are written, and one is imagined.

_Dear Readers_ , 

_J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter._

_Sincerely_ , 

_Id_

* * *

Dan and Emma Granger were eating breakfast Monday morning when they heard a tapping on the window. They exchanged glances, then Dan got up from the table and opened the window. They had just about grown accustomed to owls delivering letters, so it wasn’t out of the ordinary. 

The small, brown owl swooped in and dropped the letter on the breakfast table. Dan broke off a piece of bacon and fed the owl. It hooted happily and flew out the window, clutching the bacon in its talons. 

Dan was just about to close the window behind the owl when a not an owl, but a blue, winged _ferret_ flew inside and dropped a second letter on the table. While the first letter was addressed in his daughter’s handwriting, this one was addressed with a very over-the-top handwriting. It was loopy, almost erratic, like someone had simply scribbled something on the front of the letter, while maintaining the slightest hint of legibility. There was no return address, but instead had the phrase “Read Me Last”, and the phrase “Follow That Owl!” in place of the address. 

Dan started to close the window when yet another owl flew into his house. It dropped a _third_ letter that was addressed in a far more legible script, in an official looking envelope. Its return address was “Professor Minerva McGonagall”. 

Emma and Dan exchanged glances again, then began to read the first letter. 

_Dear Mum and Dad_ , 

_A lot has happened this week, and it might be hard to read all of this. I’m not sure how well I’m going to do with explaining it all, but I’m giving it my best shot. It’s been a very long week, and I’m relieved that it’s finally over. Please try to reserve judgement on me, my friends, and Hogwarts until you’ve read all three letters._

_Everything started on Sunday. We had another run in with Malfoy, who always manages to find us when we go into the Dungeons. Sally-Anne joined us this time, and of course Rose was there to chase him off. He still managed to get under my skin, and I ran off to the Room of Requirement to be alone. Rose found me shortly after that, and told me about her time at her imaginary school._

_There was another incident Thursday night, which included Malfoy, but he was the least of our worries. A creature called a mountain troll broke into Hogwarts. A mountain troll is about ten feet tall, with skin like that of a rhinoceros’s or elephant’s. They’re also rather destructive, as Sally-Anne and I learned first-hand._

_Before you start panicking, I want to repeat that I’m fine. We’re both safe, and I have had several reassurances that this is not a common occurrence at Hogwarts. To further reassure both of you of this, Professor McGonagall has also written to you._

_Thursday evening, Sally-Anne and I were on our way to see Rose, who had found herself once again in the Hospital Wing. She was hearing voices again, but it seemed to annoy her more than panic her this time. Draco Malfoy found us, and cursed me in the back. He hit me with a leg-locker curse, which, as its name suggests, immobilizes the legs of the victim. Sally-Anne stood up to him, but almost got herself hit with a curse for her bravery. The only thing that stopped him from attacking her was the troll itself. Malfoy shrieked (which, all things considered, was really funny), and ran off, leaving us to fend for ourselves._

_Earlier this week, Rose gave me something else from her picnic basket of tricks. This time it was a blue seashell, which she claims works basically like a telepathic walkie-talkie. I just need to hold it, and direct my thoughts at her, and she can hear them. Luckily for Sally-Anne and I, it works. If not for Rose, I would probably not be writing you this letter right now. I honestly don’t know what would have happened to me without her._

_I used the seashell to call for help, and Rose heard me. She just sort of appeared in front of me. In the Magical World, there’s something called ’apparition’, which is sort of like teleportation from science fiction. It’s not supposed to work inside Hogwarts, but Rose can do it anyway (I don’t know why). She grabbed the troll’s club and held it at bay, then threw this sort of powder grenade at the troll. The grenade blinded it, and Rose fixed my legs so that Sally-Anne and I could escape. I’m not sure what she did next, since we were too busy running for our lives, but the end result was a dead troll._

_After that, we ran into Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, who were coming to find us to make sure that we were okay. I was really surprised, actually, that Ronald of all people was coming to help us. He said it was Harry’s idea, but it was still really nice that both of them came to find us._

_Everything after that was a bit of a whirlwind. Another monster got into the castle, this one some sort of dragon-snake. Rose took care of that one too, this time using this sort of double-ended sword. That was actually really gruesome, even if she did evaporate the remains of the beast afterwards. Rose said she has problems with dragons, which I believe, since unlike everything else, she won’t talk about it. I mean, she’ll talk for hours about almost anything else, except for dragons. She dances around the subject, changes it if at all possible, and if it isn’t she has this sort of growl that she gives people until they stop talking about dragons. Sally-Anne and I think that maybe a dragon killed her parents, and that’s why she doesn’t like them._

_As I mentioned, Professor McGonagall wrote you two, but Rose also insisted that she write you. I think she’s worried that you’re going to pull me out of Hogwarts. As strange as it may sound, I really do want to stay. Even with the troll and snake-dragon, I finally feel like I fit in. Even back at home in a normal school, I always got picked on and laughed at. Sure, I still do here, but people are a little more hesitant to go through Rose and the Weasley Twins to get to me, especially now that word has got out that Rose took on a troll single-handedly. Even as pig-headed as Ronald can be, he’s still willing to stand up for me, and Harry’s really nice too._

_I think Sally-Anne was the most amazing off all. Unlike me, she had two good legs when the troll attacked us, but she wouldn’t run away and leave me behind. She even tried to pick me up and carry me, which didn’t go nearly as well as planned, but she still tried. She even stood up to Malfoy when he was harassing us. I’ve never seen him so angry with anyone except Rose. Sally-Anne saved me before Rose even got there, and kept us alive long enough for me to remember that I had the seashell._

_It was also something that Sally-Anne said that made me want to stay. I don’t remember exactly what it was (Rose might, she wrote it down), but it was something like ’If we leave, then it just proves that people like Malfoy are right in that we don’t belong here’. Malfoy’s wrong; I do belong here. So please, PLEASE don’t make me leave._

_Lots of Love_ , 

_Hermione_

_P.S. Rose isn’t letting me look over her letter first, so just remember to take anything she says with a grain of salt._

Dan and Emma took turns reading the letter out loud, switching whenever one of them had to stop. After they finally reached the end, they sat in silence for a moment. 

“Of all the things that would make her want to stay,” Emma said. “I wouldn’t think an attack on the school would be one of them.” 

“It’s like a wild animal getting into the school,” Dan said. 

“ _Two_ wild animals,” his wife added. 

“I don’t think anything can convince me to let her stay.” 

“Me either, but we should listen to her. She wanted us to wait until we’d read all three letters.” 

Dan nodded, and opened the second letter. 

_Dear Mr. and Mrs. Granger_ , 

_If you have not already read your daughter’s letter, then I suggest you do so now. I would rather you hear of what happened from her perspective than from mine._

_As the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, I would like to extend my sincerest apologies for the events of this past Thursday. I want to assure you that fatality is rare at Hogwarts; we have had one incident in the past 50 years. Thursday’s situation cannot happen again, as two of the leading experts on defencive wards have verified that the castle is once again secured. What happened was Professor Quirrell, the professor for Defence Against the Dark Arts, accidentally left one of the wards down while allowing a troll in for one of his classes. A second troll from a colony a few miles north of the school got in after he forgot to reseal the wards._

_Before you pass judgement on the staff, let me also assure you that Professor Quirrell’s incompetence, for lack of a better term, does not reflect the norm amongst the staff. He is still continuing to teach at Hogwarts, but only until we find a suitable replacement. Further, I saw to it personally that the young Mr. Malfoy, the boy who cursed your daughter in the back, received adequate discipline as well, despite his threats to abuse his father’s influence. We do not condone his behavior either._

_Instead, it is students such as Mses. Perks and Peta-Lorrum, students who selflessly risk their lives for others, that are rewarded. While for the staff, older students, and apparently Ms. Peta-Lorrum, a troll is not difficult to handle, for younger students, it is a challenge. The moment the staff were alerted to the presence of the troll, the rest of the students were escorted to their rooms by their prefects. The rest of the staff and I moved through the castle, looking for any students still in the castle. Ms. Peta-Lorrum notified Headmaster Dumbledore of the whereabouts of the troll immediately, who then alerted the rest of the staff._

_I tell you all of this so that you may not see Hogwarts in a negative light. I understand how difficult it can be for Muggle parents to understand our culture, but I assure you that we have taken several precautions against incidents such as this one. We hold the safety of our students in the highest regard, and I want you to feel that your daughter is perfectly safe in our hands. Hermione is incredibly gifted, possibly the most gifted witch I have ever had the pleasure of teaching. She grasps what I know to be difficult concepts as easily as you or I breathe. She receives top marks in all of her classes, and continues to be a model student, even at the worst of times._

_It has been my privilege to teach your daughter, and I hope that you will allow me to continue to do so._

_Truly Yours_ , 

_Professor Minerva McGonagall_

_Professor of Transfigurations_  
_Deputy Headmistress_  
_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

“Wow,” Emma said. 

“I’d certainly like to give that Professor Quirrell a piece of my mind,” Dan said. 

“What does ‘suitable replacement’ mean?” Emma wondered. “I don’t see how someone that supposedly teaches defence can make such a big mistake about it.” 

“Me either,” Dan said. “And how does the staff let that Malfoy kid get away with that?” 

“Professor McGonagall _did_ say that he had received ‘adequate discipline’.” 

“Because of that boy, Hermione was almost killed!” 

“But she’s okay right now,” Emma said. “We can’t really do anything else about it. Should we risk the third letter?” 

“Might as well,” Dan replied, opening the third and final letter. 

_Dear Mr. and Mrs. Hermione’s Parents_ , 

_Salutations! My name is Rose Peta-Lorrum, and I’m Hermione’s best friend! If you followed the instructions I left for you on this letter (The bit about reading this last, not the bit about the owl. That was for Intelligencer.), then you have already learned of the events that befell Hogwarts Thursday evening. Hermione’s worried that you’re going to pull her out of Hogwarts. I’ve never been responsible for anyone, as I only have older siblings, but I still worry about them, so I guess you’re probably worried about Hermione’s safety. So, I hope to put your minds at ease._

_First, I did in fact take out both the troll and the abomination of nature. I can move about the castle almost at will, and as long as Hermione holds onto that seashell I gave her, I can pinpoint her exact location and determine how she is doing. I remember how scary it was walking around Arcrel all by myself, so I know how hard it can be for someone like Hermione at a place like Hogwarts. I’ve always got Hermione’s back, and if something goes very wrong, then Intelligencer, the expeditious messenger that delivered this letter, can go alert a staff member._

_My best friend back home is the most paranoid person that I’ve ever met, and my brother is the smartest person I’ve ever met. Between the two of them, I’ve got contingencies for almost any scenario. It was also from them I learned the word ’contingency’. So I promise that I will keep Hermione safe. She’s my best friend here, and I learned from my big sister not to let anyone mess with my friends. I’ve already told off Professor Quirrell, and Draco is too terrified of me to come anywhere near them while I’m around._

_I hope that you will let Hermione continue to go to Hogwarts. I’m new to this plane too, so having someone else not familiar with everything has been great._

_Sincerely_ , 

_Rose Peta-Lorrum_

Dan and Emma exchanged glances again. 

“That wasn’t so bad,” Dan said. “Although, I almost lost it at ‘Salutations!’. Who says that?” 

“You made it _that_ far?” Emma asked. “She had me on ‘Mr. and Mrs. Hermione’s Parents’.” 

They sat in silence for a moment, then Emma said, “Everything Hermione has said about Rose makes it sound like Rose really does scare Malfoy away.” 

“But if she’s subject to these fits, then how is Hermione supposed to rely on her?” 

“Why is she relying on another _student_ to keep her safe?!” Emma exclaimed. “Where are the teachers?” 

“Didn’t Hermione say it was against the rules to use magic in the halls?” 

“I think she did.” 

“You’d think the professors would have some sort of system for that.” 

“They can’t be everywhere at once, Dan.” 

“Neither can that Malfoy kid, but he still seems to find her.” 

For a few minutes, neither said a word. Emma glanced at the clock. 

“We need to leave soon,” she said. “Maybe we should talk about this tonight after we’ve both had some time to think about it.” 

“Sounds good.” 

* * *

At the same time, Sarah and Wilfred Perks were reading similar letters. 

_Dear Mum and Dad_ , 

_I’m not really sure what the best way to say this is, so I’m just going to go ahead and say it. Thursday night there was an attack on the school. A mountain troll, which is a big, BIG creature with gray skin, broke into the school and found me and Hermione. We were on our way to see Rose, who was in the Hospital Wing again, when Malfoy attacked us. He froze Hermione’s legs, but the troll scared him off._

_That left us alone to face the troll. I tried dragging Hermione off, but I couldn’t lift her. The troll was going to smash us with its club, but Rose just appeared out of nowhere. I don’t know how she did it, but she just grabbed the troll’s club like it was nothing. She was like a knight from a fairy tale!_

_She threw a bomb at it that exploded with dust. It blinded the troll so we could escape (Rose fixed Hermione’s legs too). I tried to think of spells that could stop the troll, but blinding it never even occurred to me. I thought that was really clever of her._

_We ran right into Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, who were coming to make sure we were okay. I thought it was very sweet of them to check on us like that. It was good they did, because another monster got into the school. Don’t worry. Professor Dumbledore said that monsters don’t break into the school a lot._

_The other monster was a dragon, also like the fairy tales. It even breathed fire. Then the boys threw some rocks at it to get it to leave us alone so we could run from it, but we didn’t want to run back to the troll. It swished its tail at the boys, and they were thrown into the wall. Then Rose appeared again, this time holding a double-bladed sword! It was really cool, until the part where she slaughtered the dragon with it. I don’t want to write about it more, since thinking about it makes me sick._

_Rose says she doesn’t like dragons, but won’t say why. She doesn’t have any parents, so I keep wondering if maybe dragons took her parents from her. ~~Me and~~ Hermione and I were talking to Professor McGonagall about it on Friday while Rose was talking to Professor Dumbledore about what happened. Rose wanted to write you, since she doesn’t want us to “split the party” (Still not sure what that means), but I told her that you probably wouldn’t make me leave._

_I think it was really bad luck that the troll found us. It was really scary and a little exciting. It was hard to talk about at first, until I realized that it was just like a story! And I also finally understand why the Sorting Hat put me in Gryffindor. When I was there, and the troll was going to kill us, all I could think about was that Hermione couldn’t escape. Even though I was really scared, I wanted to help her instead of me. Professor Dumbledore even awarded me house points for being brave!_

_I’m still worried, but I think I’ll be alright as long as Rose is here. She was really brave, like she’d done this sort of thing before. Even Malfoy thinks twice before picking a fight with her. And now that Harry and Ron have started hanging out with us, I think we’re going to be okay._

_Love_ , 

_Sally-Anne_

For a few minutes, neither of them spoke. 

“That’s some school,” Wilfred said finally. 

“I’m not sure what worries me more,” Sarah said. “That a _troll_ broke into the school and nearly killed Sally-Anne, or that she thought the whole thing was _exciting_.” 

“Scared,” Wilfred said, pointing at the letter. “She said ‘scared’ too.” 

“And I guess it’s good that she’s learning to be brave,” Sarah said. “I was a little worried that she was going to be timid forever.” 

“Speaking of bravery,” Wilfred said, grabbing the second letter. “Why don’t we read the one from Professor McGonagall?” 

_Dear Mr. and Mrs. Perks_ , 

_If you have already read your daughter’s letter, then you know that a mountain troll breached Hogwarts on Hallowe’en night. As Deputy Headmistress, I want to extend my sincerest apologies for these events. This is not typical of Hogwarts, and in fact two of the leading experts on defencive spells and wards have personally verified that the castle is now safe. Professor Quirrell, who teaches Defence Against the Dark Arts, mistakenly left one of the wards down while bringing in a troll for his class. This allowed a second troll from a colony a few miles north of the school to enter the castle._

_Unfortunately, this troll found your daughter and her friend, Hermione Granger. Fortunately for them, Rose Peta-Lorrum was able to get to them in time, and Professor Dumbledore, the Headmaster, found them shortly after that. Fatality at Hogwarts is rare; indeed we have had one case in the past fifty years. Professor Dumbledore has put emergency protocols into place to get every student to safety during such an emergency._

_Your daughter was in danger before we were even aware that there was danger. For putting her and Ms. Granger in that position, Mr. Malfoy has been disciplined. We do not condone his behavior at Hogwarts._

_I understand that this is a lot to process, but I believe one fact should shine above the rest. Your daughter displayed outstanding bravery when facing down a mountain troll. I rarely see the kind of bravery and loyalty displayed by Sally-Anne in any of my students, despite being the head of house of the house known for its bravery. She handled the situation the best she could, and I believe you should be proud. I certainly am._

_Truly Yours_ , 

_Professor Minerva McGonagall_

_Professor of Transfigurations_  
_Deputy Headmistress_  
_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

* * *

Minerva sat in her office, relaxing after writing two letters to parents. Explaining incidents to parents was certainly not her favorite thing to do. Especially Muggle parents. It was more difficult to earn their trust after something went wrong, since none of them had ever heard of Albus Dumbledore. Most of the Wizarding World had respect for Albus, which made things go much more smoothly. 

“Thank Merlin I don’t need to write one to Peta-Lorrum’s parents,” she muttered. “I can just imagine how well _that_ would go.” 

_Dear Mr. and Mrs. Peta-Lorrum, or Whatever Your Names Are_ , 

_Unfortunately, a troll broke into Hogwarts Thursday night, but don’t worry, because your daughter killed it. For some reason, Merlin knows what, she carries a concealed, lethal weapon on her person. She used this weapon to butcher a troll and possibly a dragon._

_I apologize for these events, but I have the strangest feeling that I don’t need to. I would assure you that this is not typical for Hogwarts, but I think that might disappoint your daughter, who seems to have gotten a kick out of the whole thing. Not like a normal eleven-year-old girl, who would be terrified by these events. No, she was thrilled._

_On the one hand, she saved two of her classmates’ lives, and possibly the lives of two other classmates. I am unspeakably grateful for this, as I believe are the parents of at least Mses. Granger and Perks. Rose notified the Headmaster when things were getting out of hand, which was actually the right thing to do. I’m still a little shocked by that. On the other hand, YOUR DAUGHTER IS MAD!._

_Truly Yours_ , 

_Professor Minerva McGonagall_

_Professor of Transfigurations_  
_Deputy Headmistress_  
_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, although lately it seems more like the Loony Bin._

“Definitely glad I don’t have to write _that_ letter,” Minerva said, taking a sip of her tea. 

* * *

The next morning at breakfast, three letters landed on the Gryffindor table; one in front of Hermione, Sally-Anne, and Rose. 

Hermione glanced over at Rose’s letter, immediately recognizing her parents’ handwriting. 

“Rose, what did you tell my parents?” Hermione asked. 

“That I’ve got your back!” 

“ _How_ did you tell them?” 

“Shh! It’s a secret,” whispered Rose. 

Hermione opened her mouth, but decided against trying to argue with the now-grinning, crimson-haired girl. She opened up her letter and began to read it. 

_Dear Hermione_ , 

_We aren’t going to make you read this entire letter to learn of our decision. You may remain at Hogwarts, but there are a few conditions. We worked these out after a long discussion Monday night._

_First, you are not to go anywhere on your own. We know you like your personal space, but it’s become apparent to us that the halls of Hogwarts are not safe for a Muggle-born girl. Therefore, you are to have one of your friends, preferably Sally-Anne or Rose (Your Father doesn’t trust the boys), accompany you whenever you are in the halls._

_Second, if you ever feel uncomfortable with anything, whether it be something the other students are doing, or the way the teachers are acting, go to Professor McGonagall immediately. If there is a problem with her, then try taking it to Professor Dumbledore. He seems willing to listen to your problems, and you mentioned that he even seems to take Rose seriously._

_Third, we are to remain informed at all times. You have been doing just fine with this so far, and we trust that you aren’t keeping secrets from us. However, if we begin to feel as if you are keeping secrets from us, then we will reach out to your professors and friends._

_We don’t want you to feel like we’re treating you like a child, since you are growing up. We’re just worried about you. We didn’t expect to be worrying whether we’d see you again when we sent you off to Hogwarts. It sounds like you’ve got some good friends at the school. Take care of yourself, Hermione. We can’t wait to see you at Christmas._

_Love_ , 

_Mum and Dad_

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. Her parents’ rules weren’t exactly an overreaction. She had been almost _killed_ after all. 

Hermione made a note to thank Professor McGonagall for whatever it was that her teacher had told her parents. Between her and Rose, Hermione’s parents had actually agreed to let her stay. 

_Dear Sally-Anne_ , 

_That’s quite a tale. Hogwarts is certainly very different from a normal school. We’re glad that you’re excited, but remember that situations like that are very dangerous. You could’ve died, but we both think that you know that. Of course, surviving is the important part, so we are both glad that you’re safe, and very proud of how brave you were._

_You’re right about one thing: We aren’t going to try to pull you out of Hogwarts. This is only one incident, and we are confident that it doesn’t reflect the norm of Hogwarts. Professor Dumbledore sounds like he’s got a good head on his shoulders, and takes the safety of his students very seriously. We trust that he’s handling the situation to the best of his ability._

_It sounds like Rose is alright, despite her quirks, and you and Hermione seem to be becoming good friends. We’re happy that you’re making friends, but please do try to be careful._

_Love_ , 

_Mum and Dad_

Hermione glanced over at Rose, and wondered if her parents were going to be using Rose as an alternate source of information. She shuddered at the thought. 

_Dear Rose_ , 

_We appreciate everything that you’ve done for our daughter. You’ve been a good friend to Hermione, and most importantly, you saved her life. We are indescribably grateful. If there is anything we can ever do for you, just let us know._

_Sincerely_ , 

_Mr. and Mrs. Hermione’s Parents_

“I like your parents, Hermione,” Rose said, grinning. 

“Yeah,” Hermione said, smiling. “They’re pretty great.” She turned to Sally-Anne. “What about you, Sally-Anne? Good news?” 

“Mum took it a lot better than I thought she would,” Sally-Anne said. “Dad’s laid back about… just about everything, so I wasn’t too worried about him.” 

“You think _your_ mum’s overbearing?” Ron asked. “My mum acts like the world’s ending whenever one of my brothers gets so much as a papercut!” 

“That sounds like my dad,” Hermione said. 

As Hermione, Ron, and Sally-Anne began to compare notes on overprotective and overbearing parents, Harry sat quietly and ate his food. 

“Cheer up, Harry,” Rose said. “We’re your family now, and we’re all very worried that you were involved in such an incident. You’ve given us no choice but to force you to stay at Hogwarts, far away from your aunt and uncle.” 

Harry gave a halfhearted laugh. 

“I’ll get right on that, Rose,” Harry said. 

* * *

_Dear Mum and Dad_ , 

_I’m not sure how I’m going to get this letter to you, but everyone else was writing letters to their parents, so I thought I’d write one too. You would be proud of me. I saved the lives of two of my classmates Thursday night. Hermione used the seashell I gave her to call for help, and I used_ status _to determine her location, and_ dim door _to get to her. Once there, I found that a giant was about to smash my friends Hermione and Sally-Anne with a club. I deflected the club, used a_ dust eggshell grenade _to blind it, then fixed Hermione’s legs. This bully named Draco Malfoy used a spell to freeze them._

_After Sally-Anne and Hermione had run off, I cut off the giant’s forearm, then tripped it, and went for the kill strike. I know you don’t like it when I kill anything. I just wanted to make sure that the girls were safe. Everything was only made worse by the presence of a dragon. The good news was that it was only a green dragon._

_I miss you a lot. I have to keep telling everyone that you’re dead so they won’t try to find you. It was Sk’lar’s idea, but it makes sense. It’s starting to feel like you two really are dead again. I’m so sorry that I didn’t get the seashells finished sooner._

_I think you’d like Professor Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts. He’s really nice. He’s also the only one who has figured out that I’m actually from another world. I don’t exactly keep it a secret, but he’s the only one who considered the possibility that I’m actually telling the truth. He reminds me a lot of Uncle Oz, and Professor McGonagall reminds me a little of Carolina. She’s really strict, but she’s really nice when she needs to be. I’ve also caught her looking at the Headmaster as if he’s crazy. It’s almost the same exact look that Carolina gives me sometimes!_

_There’s also Professor Snape, who dresses and acts almost identically to Shadow. Naturally, I’ve decided that I’m going to become his friend! So far, I think it’s going well. He even agreed with me on Friday during class! It might have been to get me to stop bothering him, but I think it’s because he’s starting to like me!_

_Professor Quirrell is evil, unfortunately. I’m not sure if Professor Dumbledore knows yet, but I think he might. The Headmaster has this aura of… whatever that word is that starts with an ’o’ that means knows everything… about him (Again, just like Uncle Oz). Professor Quirrell was the one that most likely let in the giant on Thursday, then tried to kill Harry on Saturday. Naturally, I confronted him about it shortly afterward, and told him to stay the Hells away from my friends. I’m not sure if he’s going to listen, though._

_I miss you both and can’t wait to go home._

_Love_ , 

_Your Little Rose Blossom_

Rose put her pen down, then reread her letter. 

“I’ll be home soon,” she whispered. 

After putting away her notebook, Rose laid down in her bed. Instead of simply humming her mum’s lullaby as she usually did, Rose decided she wanted to hear the words again, so she sang to an empty room. 

_Red like Roses_  
_Gold like the Sun._  
_It goes down to let us know_  
_That now, the day is done_  
  
_Red like Roses_  
_Silver, how it gleams_  
_Don’t worry, little one_  
_You’re sure to have sweet dreams_  
  
_Red like Roses_  
_Black as the night_  
_And now it’s time, my dear_  
_For us to say good night_  


* * *


	15. Trial and Error

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which learning is done by all.

**Disclaimer:** Owns(J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter) = true. 

* * *

Percy Weasley descended the stairs bright and early Friday morning. His hair was perfectly combed, his robes were free of lint and dust, and his teeth were shining. His appearance was perfect down to the last detail. Naturally, he was on high alert for Fred and George. Those two were always right around the corner, waiting to ruin his day. 

Instead of his brothers, it was their new partner in crime that he found waiting for him in the Common Room. She was in plain sight, which was reassuring, as was the fact that he had never _actually_ caught them working together. Nevertheless, Percy was still certain that Peta-Lorrum and the Twins were scheming during meals, or swapping notes at the very least. Whatever it was that they always did, it gave him a horrible feeling. 

“Salutations, Percy!” Rose greeted him. “Would you please help me with something?” 

That was a trap if he had ever heard one, but Percy was still a prefect, and a student in need of help was still a student in need of help. 

“How can I help you?” Percy asked authoritatively. 

“I assume, as a prefect, you know about the spell active on the girls’ stairs?” 

Percy slowly nodded his head. “I do. Why?” 

“I was wondering how it worked. Alex said that the stairs turned into a slide, but it didn’t make sense for _all_ of the stairs to turn into a slide. I mean, if a boy accidentally went up the stairs, then every girl on the stairs would tumble down and most likely fall on the boy.” 

“Which is why we don’t tell the boys about it. The boys could easily stop one of the girls from reaching the safety of their rooms.” 

“But they’re going to figure it out eventually, aren’t they? We _are_ in the think-first-ask-questions-later house! I’m sure Fred and George have already figured it out!” 

Percy opened his mouth to argue, but closed it when he realized that she had a good point. How had more of the boys not figured it out yet? He hadn’t known about the stairs until Professor McGonagall had told him during orientation in September, but he was respectful and always gave women their space. But most of the Gryffindors were more like the Twins than Percy. They were rash and impulsive, not responsible and respectful like him. 

Then the answer occurred to him: Harassing the girls would mean incurring the wrath of Professor McGonagall, and _no one_ wanted that. Sure, half the Gryffindors were scared of Professor Snape, but they knew that outside of Potions, they could hide behind Professor McGonagall. They could _not_ do the same against their head of house, who accepted nothing but the best from each and every Gryffindor student (Or in the case of the Twins, she took what she could get). 

“If a boy were to try to climb the stairs,” Percy began. “Then he would undoubtedly be reported by one of the prefects, all of whom sleep on the first few floors. So assuming that he could ascend the stairs, he would have to sneak past them, in addition to the rest of the students. If he gets caught, then he will be reported to the prefects, who will not only dock points, but report him to Professor McGonagall, of whom most students are afraid.” 

“Yeah, she is kinda scary when she’s mad,” Rose said. “She reminds me of Carolina like that.” 

“Who’s Carolina?” Percy asked. Percy was aware that she was distracting him from making his rounds, but the stories that Peta-Lorrum made up were interesting. 

“My brother’s girlfriend,” Rose replied. “Well, they deny it, but I’m fairly certain that they’re in some sort of secret relationship.” 

“And what does this have to do with Professor McGonagall?” asked Percy impatiently. 

“You know how Professor McGonagall has this death glare she gives your brothers?” 

“I know it very well.” 

“Carolina has an almost identical glare. I don’t even know how she does it! It’s not like she puts ranks into Intimidate! I think she gets a circumstance bonus to Intimidate checks against people who are acting like children.” Rose cocked her head. “Come to think of it, I think she gets a bonus on all Charisma checks and Charisma-based skill checks when dealing with people who are acting like children.” 

Percy nodded. He might have found it more difficult to believe that there existed a person that was just as intimidating as Professor McGonagall, except that his mother could be just as terrifying if she so chose. Neither woman was particularly keen on glaring at Percy, as he was careful to always follow the rules, but having seen both women when they stared down Fred and George, he decided that he was quite comfortable with only his second-hand experience. 

“If that is all, Ms. Peta-Lorrum, then I need to be–” 

“Just one more question! What if a girl tried to do the same thing to the boys? Chase after them, I mean. Is there a similar enchantment on the boys’ rooms?” 

“No, since that doesn’t happen as often. Men tend to be more aggressive than women.” 

“ _Really?_ ” asked Rose. “Are you sure? All the women I know are _way_ more aggressive than the men.” 

Percy eyed her. “I’m not sure what you mean, but–” 

“My best friend Shadow doesn’t mind the odd kill, Carolina has been known to throw people out of windows, and my sister Alice carries around a battleaxe.” 

Percy blinked. He wasn’t sure which part concerned him more: The assassin best friend, the defenestrating woman, the sister with the battleaxe, or the little girl standing in front of him who imagined all of them. 

“I mean–” Percy cleared his throat to stall whilst he collected his thoughts. “I mean that when it comes to the opposite gender, men tend to be more aggressive.” 

“Huh,” Rose said, thinking about the boys she knew. “I’m not sure–” 

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to make my morning rounds.” 

“Okay!” Rose beamed. “Thank you, Percy!” 

“You’re welcome,” Percy replied, stepping through the portrait. 

Rose turned to look at the stairs. 

“He didn’t really help me as much as I’d have liked,” she said. “Oh well! First test!” 

Rose activated her _shapechange_ ability, and took the form of Percy. She/he then attempted to walk up the stairs which, true to the words of Alex and Percy, turned into a slide. Percy!Rose returned to her normal form as she slid down, and the stairs reverted back into stairs. 

“Alright, so it _is_ physical appearance,” Rose said, making a note in her notebook. “Next question, does it only work on Humans?” 

She activated _shapechange_ again, this time taking a different form. Crimson hair began to sprout from her skin, and there was a series of crunching noises as her bones realigned themselves. She, along with her cloak and all of her equipment, began to shrink. Magic items automatically resized themselves to fit the wearer, and _shapechange_ allowed any equipment to stay with her that would still fit. Thus, she would retain all magic items on her person when using _shapechange_ , regardless of what form she took. Including a crimson red cat. 

Of course, even as a cat, Rose retained her keen, analytical, not to mention insightful mind. 

<I’m a kitty!> she told Reflectesalon. 

<Confirmed; you are a feline.>

Rose, now in the form of a male cat, began to leisurely stroll up the stairs. This time, the stairs did _not_ revert into a slide, but instead remained as stairs. 

Satisfied with her results, Cat!Rose trotted back down the stairs, and began the change back to her Human form. Each alteration with _Shapechange_ only took a few seconds, but it was always accompanied by gruesome visual and sound effects. She and Sk’lar had looked it up once, and found that Professor Applegate, who had invented the _shapechange_ spell, was never able to silence those sound effects, nor was she ever able to regulate the process. As a result, you ended up with the potential to have your skeleton change before your flesh caught up with it. Having had it persisted on her for over a year, Rose had grown accustomed to the quirks of the spell. 

“Alright, so it only reverts to a slide if a Human male walks up it,” Rose said. “Now, does he have to _walk_ up it?” 

Rose looked around, then took a different form. The first change was her height. She grew about a foot, and then her hair began to turn black. Her figure changed, until finally she had taken the form of Professor Snape. 

“Now then,” Snape!Rose said as her/his feet lifted off the ground. “Let’s find out, shall we?” 

Snape!Rose floated up the stairs, and as Rose had anticipated, they did not turn into a slide. 

Rose took her normal form, just as the Weasley Twins crawled through the portrait. 

“Was your hair black just now?” Fred asked. 

“Nope!” Rose replied. “I was just running some tests on the girls’ stairs. I take it you know about the enchantment?” 

“Of course!” George said. 

“Figured it out in our first year,” added Fred. 

“It turns into a slide if a boy tries to walk up,” George said. 

“We wanted to know if the girls’ rooms were just like the boys’.” 

“Boy, were _we_ surprised when we started tumbling down!” 

“Did you know that you can fly up them?” Rose asked. 

“We had thought about that.” 

“But how would we get a broom in here?” 

“Right, you lot need brooms to fly, don’t you?” Rose said. 

“Don’t you?” asked Fred. 

Rose thought about how to reply, which on its own was a new concept to her. She reckoned that she no longer needed to hide her talents to stop from being expelled, but she also didn’t want the attention that they’d bring her. Then again, these were the Weasley Twins, and they had secrets of their own. 

“No, but that’s a secret,” she said in a hushed voice. She looked from side to side, an action mimicked by the Twins. She looked at them and brought her finger to her lips. “Shh!” 

“We won’t tell a soul!” George said. 

“Just so long as you tell us how you’re managing it!” 

“ _Stormrage_ ,” she said. “Eighth-level, personal target spell. Combines _fly_ , _wind wall_ , and allows me to shoot lightning bolts out of my eyes. I’m also immune to any natural, wind-based effects.” 

“You’re making that up!” said Fred. He and George both knew that she wasn’t, but they _really_ wanted to see her shoot lightning bolts from her eyes, a desire that was relayed to Rose by Reflectesalon. 

Rose turned her head towards the fire place, and, sure enough, a bolt of lightning lanced out of either eye, joining into a single bolt before striking the wood in the fireplace. She turned back to the twins, who were grinning from ear to ear. 

“ _That_ was cool,” said George. 

“Can you show us how to do that?” asked Fred. 

“Not easily, I’m afraid,” Rose said. “I’ve only got it because it’s persistable, but being an eighth-level spell, it’s incredibly resource draining to make an item of it. Especially a continuous one. I might be able to make you boys something that just lets you shoot lightning, but I couldn’t easily make the whole package.” Before they asked her to explain further, which she didn’t feel like doing at the moment, she changed the subject. “What were you two doing out this early?” 

“Absolutely nothing!” both of the boys said. 

<They tilted most of the portraits on their brother’s route,> Reflectesalon informed Rose. 

Rose grinned. “I can top that,” she told the Twins and Reflectesalon. 

* * *

That afternoon after lunch, Rose and her band of first-years went up to the seventh floor for the first of the elective seminars. Hermione nearly ran the whole way, followed by Rose, who was skipping. The pace set by the two girls forced the boys and Sally-Anne to trot to keep up with them. 

“Does she always skip?” panted Ron. 

“Not always,” replied Sally-Anne, “but nearly.” 

When they arrived at classroom 7A, Hermione briskly walked in and took a seat in the front row of the classroom. Rose sat next to her, followed by a slightly worn out Sally-Anne. Harry and Ron took seats behind the girls. 

Over the next few minutes, several other students filed into the classroom. Unfortunately, amongst the newcomers were Draco Malfoy and his two goons whose names Rose didn’t care to memorize. 

“My name is Professor Vector,” the woman at the front said. “As some of you may be aware, I teach Arithmancy here at Hogwarts. All of you that showed up are probably planning on taking my class, and for that, I commend you. Many of your older classmates will tell you that Arithmancy is the most difficult class offered at Hogwarts. Personally, I always thought that was History of Magic, because no matter how hard I tried, I could never stay awake.” 

That got a few snickers out of the class. 

“Arithmancy makes use of maths to analyse spells. Using it, one can deconstruct a spell into its base components, or create an entirely new one.” 

Septima looked out over the faces of the students, attempting to gauge their reactions. Of interest were a few Gryffindor girls in the front row. Two of them looked ecstatic, while the third girl looked mildly interested at best. What concerned Septima the most was that one of the three Gryffindor girls had crimson hair. 

_This must be Rose Peta-Lorrum._

“Now, I’m going to give a few maths problems to check your current level of understanding.” She began to write on the chalkboard. “Unfortunately, with no core maths curriculum, students begin Arithmancy at a variety of skill levels.” She wrote out the problem _467 x 32_. Septima thought it might be a bit much, but she had found it to be more encouraging to the students to start with a problem that took the smarter students (pronounced “Ravenclaws”) longer to solve. That way, the rest of the class at least gave it a shot, instead of assuming that they wouldn’t be able to solve it before the smart students (again, Ravenclaws). “Take your time with–” 

The girl that Septima was fairly certain was Peta-Lorrum raised her hand. 

“Yes, Miss…?” 

“Rose Peta-Lorrum, and the answer is 14,944.” 

_It_ is _her._ Septima looked down at her notebook. The girl was correct. How’d she solve it so fast? 

“That’s… correct.” Septima regained her composure. “Two points to Gryffindor.” 

Septima decided to try a harder problem, so she wrote out 7 4 on the board, and Peta-Lorrum’s hand once again went up. 

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum, I rarely have to say this, but please give someone else a chance.” 

The girl lowered her hand. After a moment, the girl with the bushy hair sitting next to Peta-Lorrum raised her hand. 

“Yes, Miss…?” 

“Hermione Granger, Ma’am. 2,401.” 

“Very good, another two points for Gryffindor,” she said, erasing the board. She wrote _714 / 17_. 

Peta-Lorrum’s hand went up again. 

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum,” Septima began, “Ms. Granger,” she added after Granger’s hand went up again, “let’s give the men a chance. I’m sure your housemates are more than capable of securing more points for Gryffindor.” 

They heard snickering from the back of the class. 

Septima looked towards the source of the sound, and thought for a moment that she must have been hallucinating. It _looked_ like Lucius Malfoy was sitting in her classroom once again, but then she remembered that his progeny/clone was now attending Hogwarts. 

“You must be Draco Malfoy. I take it you have the answer?” 

“Obviously,” he boasted. “It’s…” The Slytherin paused for a moment, apparently attempting to do the work in his head. “697!” 

Rose and Hermione smiled, both trying hard not to laugh. 

“Incorrect, Mr. Malfoy, that is a _division_ symbol, not a _subtraction_ symbol,” Septima chastised. _Your father made the same mistake on_ his _first day._ “Ms. Granger, would you care to enlighten Mr. Malfoy as to the correct answer?” 

“It’s 42, Ma’am.” 

“Very good.” 

Rose heard Draco mutter “Filthy Mudblood” under his breath from behind her. Rose didn’t know how, but Professor Vector heard it too. 

“Mr. Malfoy,” Professor Vector said sternly. She pointed at the door. “Five points from Slytherin, and there’s the door! Next time I hear you use that word in my classroom, you will be going through it. One way or another.” 

“I didn’t do anything!” 

“Five _more_ points from Slytherin for lying. Do not think that simply because I was in Slytherin that you will receive special treatment.” 

It was at that moment that Rose decided that she liked this professor. 

* * *

By the end of the seminar, Rose was certain that Hermione was pushing herself harder than normal. Being unable to receive Hermione’s thoughts, she made a note to ask Hermione why. 

As the other students got up to leave, Hermione approached Professor Vector. 

“Professor Vector?” 

“Ms. Granger, how may I help you?” 

“I was wondering… er… I heard that sometimes students can test into classes early… and…” 

“And you’d like to try to test into Arithmancy early,” Professor Vector finished for her. 

“Yes, Ma’am.” 

“As you may have heard, I prefer _not_ to allow students to test in early,” Professor Vector replied. 

“Oh,” Hermione replied, looking down. 

“But, you have displayed significant talent, Ms. Granger. If you’d like, next term we can work on an independent study. Depending on how you do, I will sign off on you taking Arithmancy a year early.” 

Hermione’s entire face lit up. “Really?” 

“Of course,” Professor Vector replied. “Any of you are welcome to try as well.” 

That was a bluff, but Septima knew the reputation that Arithmancy had. Not only did most Gryffindor first-years not want more work than they already had, but they _certainly_ didn’t want to be doing– 

“Really?!” exclaimed Peta-Lorrum. 

_Damn!_

“If you’d like, Ms. Peta-Lorrum, I can certainly make room,” Septima said, not skipping a beat. 

Rose opened her mouth to say ’yes’, but then caught a glimpse of Hermione out of the corner of her eye. Her friend looked a little upset. 

<She feels as if you are taking maths away from her,> Reflectesalon told Rose. <It’s the only subject at which she thought she could outdo you, and she is unaccustomed to being shown up by another student so easily. You already shine in every other class, thus it is upsetting her that you are able to come up with the answers more quickly than she.>

< _That’s_ why she was pushing herself to answer the questions before me. >

Rose thought about it for a moment. Artificing was already her thing, but this was maths. This was apparently Hermione’s thing, and Rose knew that if you started outshining the other party members, then the other party members started to hate you. Hermione was Rose’s best friend on this plane, so that was the last thing she wanted. 

“On second thought,” Rose said. “I think I’ll pass. It sounds like a lot of effort.” 

Hermione smiled a little, and Septima caught herself before she breathed a sigh of relief. 

<Thanks, Ref,> Rose pathed to her item familiar. <Hold on, didn’t I tell you not to relay Hermione’s thoughts to me anymore?>

<You did, however I was following the ’importance’ clause of our arrangement. I deemed her distress as important, and thus relayed it to you.>

<Oh. Okay!>

“Professor Vector?” 

“Yes, Ms. Peta-Lorrum?” 

“How’d you hear Draco all the way in the back? _I_ barely heard him, and I got a 61 on Perception.” 

“Several years back, I put an enchantment on my classroom that allows me to hear when students are swearing in it, or using other profane language. Racial slurs, of course, fall into that category.” 

Rose grinned. “Nice! My brother, Sk’lar, had a similar idea about a sort of alarm system to let him know when a student was in trouble. That way, students wouldn’t get bullied so much, since the professors would be able to step in immediately.” 

“That _is_ an interesting idea. Now if I may ask _you_ a question,” _Although if Severus and Minerva are to be believed, I will surely regret it,_ “how were you able to solve those problems so quickly?” 

“An Int score of 40 certainly doesn’t hurt, but you learn to be quick about computations when adventurers walk into your shop asking for some custom item, forcing you to compute the cost in your head. You’ve also got to be quick, so they don’t get bored waiting and go find someone else to make it for them.” 

“Of course,” Septima said. “Ms. Granger, I will be in touch with you about further examination later this term. Until then, all of you, take care.” 

* * *

They had just left the classroom, when they heard a familiar voice. 

“You think you’re _so_ smart, don’t you, mudbloods!” 

Rose sighed. “Gonna try to scare us, Drakey?” 

Ron snickered at the name ’Drakey’. 

“Little disappointed to see you here, Potter. Since when do you hang out with the freaks?” 

“It was right around the time that a troll made you scream like a little girl!” Ron replied. 

Rose could almost hear Bowie shouting “Oh! Shots fired!” 

Malfoy glared at the five of them. His hand began to inch towards his wand. 

“Before doing anything you regret, Mr. Malfoy,” came a voice from behind him, “I’d like to remind you that using magic in the hallways is strictly forbidden.” 

He turned around to see Professor Vector standing behind him, arms crossed. 

“I was doing nothing of the sort!” Draco exclaimed. 

“He just wanted us to share our secrets with him,” came an annoying voice from beside him. Draco felt a hand on his shoulder, and realized that Peta-Lorrum had put her arm around him. “That way he can make sure to do better when he actually takes the class in two years.” 

Septima looked at the students in front of her. Malfoy was positively _fuming_ ; Septima almost thought she saw smoke coming out of his ears. 

Malfoy pushed past Rose, his goons hot on his trail. They walked past the other Gryffindors, who parted to let him through. 

“Thank you, Professor!” Rose exclaimed. 

“No need to thank me, Ms. Peta-Lorrum,” Professor Vector replied. “It’s my job as a professor to help the students.” 

“Does Snape know that?” muttered Ron. 

“Mr. Weasley, despite my age, my ears work perfectly fine,” Professor Vector said. “Five points from Gryffindor, and for future reference, the proper form of address is _Professor_ Snape.” 

Ron’s face turned a shade of red that almost matched his hair. 

“Now if you’ll all excuse me, I’ve got work to do,” Professor Vector said, turning back towards her classroom. “Have a good afternoon.” 

“See ya later, Professor!” Rose called after her. 

She turned back to her friends. 

“I like her. She’s funny.” 

* * *

Rose was in the Room of Requirement early the next morning. Her persisted spells were going to wear off soon, which was precisely why she was there. She had reduced her XP expenditure earlier in the year, but even with her it as low as it was, it would never survive a time skip. Even just a single month would cost her 675 XP, and that wasn’t including any XP she had to expend for _Serendipity_. She needed help, and there was one person she knew that knew her craft better than she did. 

<Get it? Craft? Because I’m an Artificer?> she asked Reflectesalon. 

<You may recall that I do not have a sense of humor.>

<Yeah, you’re no fun.> Rose made a note to relay the craft pun to Bowie, then sent a message to Professor Ozerl. 

<Uncle Oz! Are you there?! Eom.>

<Good to hear from you Rose. How has your time at Hogwarts been? Eom.>

<I killed a giant!>

<So I heard. I trust you are well?>

<Yup! I just wanted to ask you something.>

<Go right ahead.>

<You’ve got a million spells persisted on you, right?>

<Far less than a million, Rose.>

<But a lot of spells.>

<Correct.>

<How do you do that? I’m burning through XP every other day to keep it up.>

<Ah, _power surge_. >

<Yup!>

<My solution is related to my recommendation that you cast _shapechange_ at 22nd level. >

_So it’s something with 22 hit dice_ , Rose thought. 

She ran through every monster of which she could think that had 22 hit dice. As each one took center stage in her mind, she recited the statistics of that monster. After about 30 seconds, she got her answer. 

<Solar Angel.>

<Why?> Oz asked her. She could hear in his “voice” that he knew she had figured it out. 

It was always this way with her uncle. He _could_ just tell her the answer, but then she wouldn’t learn anything. Some teachers stopped being teachers when they were off duty; Professor Ozerl believed that he always had more to teach, and even more to learn. 

<They get _wish_ as a spell-like ability once per day. I can use that to recharge my _Staff of Power Surge_ at the start of the day. >

<Precisely.>

<Thanks, Uncle Oz!>

<Anytime, Rose. Oz out.>

<Rose out.>

Rose began to plan. First, she needed to verify that she could in fact use _wish_ to restore the _Staff of Power Surge_. In theory it worked, but it seemed so broken that she was almost certain that it wouldn’t work as expected. Even if it didn’t, she wanted some new spells on the staff. 

Rose _power surged_ _Serendipity_ , then went to work. She specifically wasn’t using her _thought bottle_ , as she figured it would please the Distressing Meddler more if she burned off some of her XP. She had plenty to spare at the moment, so she figured it would be fine for now. 

“ _I wish the_ Staff of Power Surge _had_ Greater Arcane Sight _and_ Veil of Undeath.” 

She felt weak as the XP was drained out of her, but she stayed standing, comforted by the thought that the feeling would soon pass. 

“ _Greater Blindsight._ ” 

Rose tapped _Serendipity_ to her own forehead, and felt the effects of the spell. 

“ _Permanency._ ” 

She had one charge on _Serendipity_ left, and Rose had a few ideas for its purpose. One idea she had was to upgrade her gloves, but there was a possibility that she would pass out if she did. While technically XP deprivation was only role-playing, she got XP from role-playing it. Or at least, she _thought_ she did. Rose had a long list of other items she was planning on making, and experiments that she wanted to try. Since the experiments were all items that didn’t already exist, she couldn’t reliably use _Serendipity_ to create them. Instead, she was going with another idea she had that would allow her to further compete with the Twins in their implicit prank war. 

Rose grinned, and discharged the final _wish_. 

“ _I wish the_ Ruby Amulet _was also a_ collar of perpetual attendance.” 

Her amulet glowed as the final charge was expended to improve it. 

“Alright, now the moment for which we have all been waiting,” she said to Inar, Reflectesalon, and Intelligencer. Rose began her normal morning routine, but this time she actually expended the charges from the _Staff of Power Surge_. If this didn’t work for some reason, then she could always just keep doing what she had been doing originally, with no penalty. Either way, it would certainly be interesting to see if this worked. 

After persisting each of the spells on herself, she activated her _shapechange_ ability. She felt herself growing taller, and saw her skin turning gray. There was a series of sickening crunches as her bones realigned themselves, and she saw a pair of wings sprout from her back. Or, the skeleton of the wings, which was quickly covered in pink flesh. From this, feathers began to sprout, until finally, she finished her transformation. 

“ _I wish the_ Staff of Power Surge _had fifty charges on it_.” 

Rose saw the staff glow in her hands, and felt the warmth of a recharging staff. Since she was using _wish_ as a spell-like ability, she did not expend any of her own resources recharging the staff. It had worked. She was able to recharge the _Staff of Power Surge_ as a solar angel. 

Grinning, she reverted back to her “normal” form, then looked in a mirror to see the effects of her new spells. Her skin was now chalky white, a result of _veil of undeath_ , and her eyes were sea-green rather than green, tinted blue by _greater arcane sight_. 

“Perfect.” 

* * *

“Hey, Rose– WHOA!” Ron shouted at breakfast. “What happened to your face?!” 

“What?!” Rose gasped, running her hands over her face. “What happened?! Is it bad?!” 

“Rose, why is your skin so pale?” asked Hermione. “Are you feeling okay?” 

“Oh,” she panted. “Whew! Had me worried for a swift there! That’s just _veil of undeath_.” She grinned. “ _Kethé_ , huh?” 

“What’s that mean?” Ron whispered to Hermione. 

“It means ‘Shiny’ in Rose’s made-up language,” she whispered back. 

“What’s _veil of undeath_?” asked Harry. 

“An eighth-level spell that gives me immunity to–” Rose took a deep breath. “‘Mind-Affecting spells and abilities, poison, sleep, paralysis, stunning, disease, death effects, extra damage from critical hits, non-lethal damage, death from massive damage, ability drain, energy drain, fatigue, exhaustion, damage to physical ability scores, and any effect requiring a Fortitude save unless it is harmless or affects objects.’” 

Her friends stared at her. Rose beamed back at them. 

“I got ‘mind’ out of that,” Ron said. 

“Did you say ‘poison’?” asked Sally-Anne. 

“Did she breath at all during that?” asked Harry. 

“She can’t be serious,” Ron said, turning to Hermione. “Is she serious?” 

“I don’t know anymore,” Hermione sighed. 

On their way back to Gryffindor Tower, Hermione noticed something else strange about Rose. Well, _different_ ; Rose was already far beyond strange. 

“It’s called a _collar of perpetual attendance_. It casts a continuous _unseen servant_ spell, whom I call Smithy. Smithy follows me around and caters to my every whim! It can do a whole bunch of tasks! It can light things on fire, carry my books, and…” A huge grin crossed Rose’s face. She started to laugh. “Pick up my _gromphun_ broom!” 

Harry, Ron, and Sally-Anne, who were unaccustomed to Rose’s random fits of maniacal laughter, stared at the crimson-haired girl with both confusion and fear. 

Hermione just sighed. “That doesn’t answer my question,” she said. 

“What was it again?” 

“Why is it tilting all the portraits?!” 

Rose grinned. 

“I’m topping the Weasley Twins!” 

Hermione sighed again. “Of course you are.” 

* * *

**Note** : “Professor Applegate” is a shout out to K.A. Applegate, who wrote the _Animorphs_ book series. Each time the characters morph into a different animal, it is accompanied by similar (but far more detailed) effects to those that accompany _shapechange_. 


	16. Winter is Upon Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Amazing Artificer makes presents, and possibly a few enemies.

**Disclaimer:** Even if we can’t understand it, the Rowling Plane and everything on it belongs to the woman herself. 

* * *

Poppy Pomfrey was having a good day. It was Saturday afternoon, and the entire Hospital Wing was empty. That meant that all throughout the castle, each and every student was in good health. Not one single student had a cold, or was ill, or injured, or having a mental breakdown of some sort. Not only did this mean that Poppy got some peace and quiet, it meant that she had done her job well, and she took pride in knowing that. 

At least, that _was_ the case, right up until she saw Alex Nertlyn escorting Rose Peta-Lorrum into the Hospital Wing. 

_Not again_ , she thought to herself. If the girl was having yet another mental episode, then Poppy was going to urge Albus to transfer the girl to St. Mongo’s immediately. She knew that the Headmaster liked the girl, for whatever strange, Albusy reason, but the young Gryffindor needed help. 

“Good afternoon, Madame Pomfrey,” Alex greeted her politely. “I’m sorry to bother you, but a sizable portion of Gryffindor House and I are all concerned about Rose’s well-being.” 

“Is she having another–” Poppy stopped when she noticed the crimson-haired girl’s face. It was far more pale than normal. Sure, the girl was a little on the pale side normally, but today her face looked _sickly_. 

“Are you alright?” Poppy asked. 

“Nineteen.” 

“Pardon?” 

“You are the nineteenth person to ask me that _today_ ,” the girl replied, sounding slightly irritable. 

“Really?” Alex asked. 

Rose began to count on her fingers. “Ronald, Hermione, Harry, Sally-Anne, Neville, Percy, Alex, Professor McGonagall, Professor Dumbledore, Professor Sprout, Professor Vector.” She sighed, then muttered, “Last time I go to the Teachers’ Table.” Continuing, she said, “Fred, George, Hannah, Susan, Maxwell, Justin, and Ellie.” 

Noticing the looks on either of her companions’ faces, Rose added, “We ran into Hufflepuffs on the way here.” 

“You _are_ rather pale, Dear,” Poppy said. 

“And you weren’t yesterday,” added the prefect. 

“I don’t know why everyone’s worrying,” Rose said. “I’m telling you, I’m fine.” 

“Rose, please at least let Madame Pomfrey look you over,” Alex said. “Just to be safe.” 

“Fine,” Rose huffed, and hopped up on one of the beds. She grinned a little as she bounced on it. 

“I’ll need you to hold still for a moment, Dear,” Poppy said. She waved her wand over the young Gryffindor, muttering a few charms as she did. A basic suite of analysis charms should be enough for whatever was causing the girl to be that pale. 

As she received the results from her charms, Poppy stared at the girl. That didn’t make any sense. Poppy checked the girl’s blood pressure, but according to her results, she didn’t _have_ a blood pressure level. According to her charms, the first-year was so pale because… no, that couldn’t be possible. 

Her heart wasn’t beating. 

Rose Peta-Lorrum’s _heart wasn’t beating_. 

_Keep it together, Poppy. It’s probably just some sort of trick. It wouldn’t be the first strange thing this girl has done._

It was possible to fool the analysis charms that Poppy was using, although it seemed inconceivable that a first-year could do it, but to be safe, Poppy went for the old fashioned approach. She placed her middle and fore fingers against the girl’s neck, but sure enough, there was no heartbeat. On top of that, the girl’s skin was colder than normal, and Poppy was fairly certain that she hadn’t seen the girl take a breath since sitting down. 

“Are you finished yet?” Rose asked. “Your hand is kinda cold.” 

_How can you even tell?_ Poppy thought, removing her fingers from Rose’s neck. 

“I can still feel temperature differences just fine,” Rose explained. “I’m not immune to temperature effects. That would be ridiculous.” 

_Yeah_ , that _would be ridiculous_ , thought Alex. 

_Did she just read my mind?_ thought Poppy. 

“Normally, I don’t mind explaining everything,” Rose said, “but today, I’m tired of explaining everything to everyone, so I’m just gonna let you ponder that one for yourself. In the meantime, can I go? _Please?_ ” 

Poppy stared at the girl, and remembered what Albus had told her a few days ago. 

_If she does anything abnormal, please notify me at once._

_Her heart’s not beating_ , she thought. _How’s_ that _for abnormal, Albus?_

“Please finish your internal dialog soon,” Rose sighed irritably. “I’m bored!” 

Poppy ran into her office, and threw open a desk drawer. She grabbed a mirror from it, then stuck her head outside. There were a few ideas that she had as to why the girl was like this. Top of the list: Vampire. 

She looked through the mirror, but could see the girl just fine. She had a reflection, which probably meant not a vampire. Poppy returned to where the girl was sitting. 

“You may leave,” Poppy said, before thinking anything else. This girl was starting to unnerve her. 

The… _Thing_ beamed at her, and happily skipped off out of the Hospital Wing. 

“Madame Pomfrey?” Alex asked. “What is it?” 

“That girl hasn’t got a heartbeat,” Poppy said shakily. “If you’ll excuse me, Dear, I need to go find the Headmaster.” 

“Okay,” Alex said. 

_No heartbeat?_ thought Alex as she left the Hospital Wing. _That’s weird even for Rose._

* * *

“Albus, I know why Rose Peta-Lorrum is so pale,” Poppy said once she reached Albus’s office. 

“Why is that, Poppy?” asked Albus. 

He was a little concerned about the Mediwitch. She had arrived in his office looking like she had just seen a ghost, or rather something they _didn’t_ see every day. 

“Her heart’s not beating. She’s got no blood pressure either.” 

“That _is_ a little troubling,” he replied. “There aren’t many explanations for that.” 

Had it been any other student, Albus would have had the student quarantined immediately, and mobilized the staff and house-elves on a vampire or necromancer hunt, but this was Rose Peta-Lorrum, to whom strange events just _happened_. 

“I can see her reflection just fine, so she isn’t a vampire.” 

“That’s promising,” Albus said, folding his hands in front of him. “Thank you for informing me, Poppy.” 

Poppy stared at him for a moment. 

“Is that it?” she asked. “Just–” 

“For now, yes,” Albus replied. “As you said, she’s not a vampire, and she’s far too intelligent to be an inferius. There are several, less likely causes for her condition, but I believe the simplest explanation here is that she has used another of her unique spells. Given that the girl has lived on her own for some time, it wouldn’t surprise me if her accidental magic caused her to develop more bizarre spells.” 

Even though Albus himself didn’t believe that, he had learned how to sell ideas properly in order to calm down his friends. It was a sufficient explanation for Poppy, who left his office not a minute later. 

As Poppy exited his office, Albus wondered if there were an easier way of communicating with the first-year. He didn’t like conferences via Patronus, but he also didn’t want to be calling the girl into his office every five minutes when she decided to scare half the staff and students. 

“I’m _fine_!” the girl had told him earlier when her friends had dragged her to the Teachers’ Table during breakfast. “It’s just _veil of undeath_!” 

Assuming that _veil of undeath_ was some sort of spell, it probably made the girl appear to be undead. He wasn’t sure what the point of that was, unless it also gave her some traits of undead. Undead _were_ immune to a variety of spells, so perhaps that was the reason for her using it. With no blood flow, the now-pale young girl was probably immune to most toxins, at the very least. 

_Interesting._

* * *

Thursday rolled around, and people had slowly begun to stop asking Rose why she was so pale. She was particularly excited about today, because today was Flight Class. And she was prepared. 

“ _Up!_ ” 

The broom floated up to her as her _unseen servant_ obediently placed it in her hand. 

<Thank you, Smithy.>

<Of course, Ma’am.>

She wasn’t sure what the logic behind allowing it to communicate with her was, but all Smithy ever said was “Yes, Ma’am.” or “Of course, Ma’am.” Rose made a mental note to ask Sk’lar about it later. It could be interesting. 

“Good to see you finally got it, Peta-Lorrum!” Madame Hooch barked at her. 

Rolanda Hooch didn’t understand this girl. Ignoring the standing “Report to me if she does something strange” order from Albus, Peta-Lorrum was a fairly normal girl. Not only that, but she was competent at flying. Sure, the crimson-haired girl didn’t seem to care much for it, but she was decent enough at it. Despite this, she could never get her broom into her hand. 

What did concern her was the maniacal laughter that was now being emitted from the girl. 

“Settle down, Peta-Lorrum, it’s not _that_ funny!” 

There was another aspect of the girl that Rolanda found troubling: Why was she so pale? 

* * *

November quickly changed into December. Rose found little of interest to her, apart from Sally-Anne’s Birthday on the 23rd of November. She did begin to notice something that she categorized as “weird”. 

“What’s that?” she asked Hermione one morning. 

“What’s what?” 

“ _That_ ,” Rose replied, pointing out the window. “That white stuff falling from the sky.” 

Hermione looked out, and saw snow falling down. It was early December, so it was to be expected. It was certainly cold enough. 

“You mean snow?” Hermione asked. 

“Oh! It _is_ snow,” Rose said. “What’s it doing here?” 

Hermione blinked. This was a new one on her. Where had Rose lived that it didn’t snow? 

“Erm,” she said. “Falling?” 

“Obviously, but why here?” Rose asked. “We’re not– Oh! Does it fall _everywhere_ on this plane?” 

“What do you mean ‘plane’?” asked Hermione. “As in, ‘plane of existence’?” 

Hermione had once read a book about Multiverse Theory, but only remembered the phrase ’plane of existence’ from it, and little else. It was something about other dimensions or planes. Is that what Rose meant? Was she from another dimension? How was that even possible? If that were possible with magic, why weren’t there other people like Rose? Or were there, and it was like Muggles and aliens (allegedly), and they were just kept a secret? 

“Hermione.” 

Hermione snapped out of her mental analysis and looked at Rose. The pale girl was looking at the young Gryffindor expectantly. 

“You in there?” 

“Yeah,” she said quickly. “Er, sorry, what were you saying?” 

“I was trying to explain The Great Wheel and Cosmology, but I think you were spacing out.” 

“Sorry,” Hermione said again. Her mind was whirling with new information. It couldn’t be possible; no way was Rose from another universe. She knew Rose was a little tweaked in the head, so it was probably just some part of Rose’s made-up life. 

“Hold on,” Rose said, producing her wand. “I can fix it.” 

She lightly tapped Hermione on the forehead with the red-brown wand and muttered something about a fox. 

Hermione felt different, but it was difficult to describe exactly how she felt different. Looking around their room, she noticed that everything seemed to sit better with her. It wasn’t that she could notice more details about the room, but she did better retaining what details she did notice. She began to feel dizzy. 

“Rose, what did you do?” 

“What’s 274 times 45?” 

“12,330.” Hermione’s eyes widened. How had she just done that so quickly? 

Rose simply grinned. “Oh good, that _does_ work. Which means that you lot do have actual Intelligence scores. I wasn’t really sure at first, but I am starting to notice differences in the way things work. I don’t think that you lot have got Will Saves, or everyone’s Will Save is unbelievably low.” 

“Why’s that?” 

“ _Detect Thoughts_ allows a Will Save, but no one except for Professors Dumbledore, Snape, and Quirrell have managed to make it. Considering that it’s only a DC 15, I’d expect more primary casters to save against it.” 

“Two questions: First, what’s a ‘DC’, and second, how is that scaled?” 

“DC means ‘Difficulty Class’, and the average starting adventurer can make an 11 with little difficulty. For a primary caster, such as a Wizard or Cleric, they should be able to make a 15 about half the time. The higher level ones should be making that almost all the time.” 

“Oh,” Hermione replied. That actually made a lot of sense. It wasn’t _normal_ , but it was understandable. “Where do you come from that you have to ask about snow?” 

“It only ever snows on Thedo Minor and the Frost Tundra nearby,” Rose explained. “So actually, snow is looked at negatively, _especially_ due to the Somber Snow.” 

“What’s Somber Snow?” 

Rose and Hermione looked over to see Sally-Anne waking up. 

“It’s snow that feels colder to happy people.” 

Sally-Anne and Hermione exchanged glances. 

“Why?” Hermione asked. 

“Story goes,” Rose began, “the island of Thedo Minor housed a castle of solid adamantine. The queen that made it was one of the most powerful Wizards ever to live. She lived there with her brother and his husband. One day, they got into a huge fight. No one knows what started the fight. Most people think the queen was sleeping with one of them, probably the husband, but some people say her brother.” Rose caught the uneasy looks on her friends’ faces. “Before you ask, that’s _not_ normal. Anyway, the queen lost her temper and turned both men into glass. When she realized what she had done, she cried for days. The island turned cold from her heartbreak, and the Somber Snow was created.” 

“Winter’s a happy time here,” Sally-Anne said slowly. “There’s snowmen, and sledding, and Christmas!” 

“What’s a ‘Christmas’?” asked Rose. 

“It’s a holiday celebrated at the end of December,” Hermione explained. “People get together, decorate a tree, and give each other presents.” 

“Wait, I’ve got to give _everyone_ something?” 

“Usually only friends and family,” Sally-Anne said. 

“Do I _have_ to?” 

“You don’t _have_ to, but it’s recommended,” Hermione said. 

“Crab apples,” Rose muttered. Sighing, she added, “Alright, I’ll get started on crafting.” 

* * *

Something else that apparently accompanied “winter” was the end of the term. With the end of the term came people returning home. 

“You’re leaving?!” Rose exclaimed. “But we were having so much fun!” 

“I’m not leaving _forever_ , Rose,” Hermione said, laughing. “Just for a few weeks.” 

“Oh.” Rose turned to Sally-Anne. “Does that mean that you’re not going away forever either?” 

“Same as Hermione,” Sally-Anne replied. “We’ll see you in a few weeks, Rose.” 

“Okay,” Rose said, grinning. She pulled out a small box from her picnic basket. The girls had explained to their crimson-haired friend that the presents were supposed to be wrapped in wrapping paper. So Rose had wrapped them in red paper with roses on it. 

“Here you go, Hermione,” Rose said, handing her a small box. “Happy… Snowy Time!” 

“It’s called ‘Christmas’, Rose.” 

“Oh. Okay!” She reached into her basket, produced a second box, wrapped identically to the first, and handed it to Sally-Anne. “Happy Christmas!” 

“Thank you,” Sally-Anne said, taking the box. 

The ride back wasn’t so bad. Sally-Anne and Hermione sat together in one of the compartments, although they didn’t say much. Both girls sat and quietly stared out the window. 

Hermione thought that her parents were never going to let go of her again when she arrived at the platform. They hugged her so tightly that it started to become uncomfortable. 

“Mum! Dad! Can’t breathe!” she gasped. 

Not too far from her, Sally-Anne was receiving an equally warm welcome. 

“It’s good to have you home,” her dad said, giving her a big hug. 

“I’m glad to be home, too,” Sally-Anne said. “Although, I will miss the excitement of Hogwarts.” 

“Even brave heroes need a break every now and then,” her dad said. 

Sally-Anne’s dad had been like this as long as she could remember. The man was always enthusiastic, so much so that her mum was often the one to scold her. Her parents had perfected the “Good cop, Bad cop” routine. It helped Sally-Anne realize when she was in deep trouble, since her parents would switch roles. 

To Sally-Anne’s delight, today wasn’t one of those days. They weren’t upset that she had gotten into trouble, but instead welcomed her home with dinner, and cake and a film afterwards. 

* * *

Rose wasn’t sure if there were rules as to when you were allowed to wake up on Christmas morning, but considering that she didn’t sleep, she assumed that she would be alright to open presents at dawn. 

Rose reached over and began to open her present from Hermione. Inside was a small cube. It had variously coloured faces, and each face was divided into nine sections. Accompanying it was a note from Hermione. 

_Rose_ , 

_This is called a ’Rubik’s Cube’. It’s like a sort of puzzle box. You scramble up the faces of it, and then try to move them around to get all the colors matched up again. You mentioned that you liked puzzle boxes, so I thought you’d enjoy this one._

_Your Friend_ , 

_Hermione_

Rose stared wide-eyed at the box. It was a puzzle box! Puzzles boxes were in constant competition with books for the title of “Rose’s Favorite Activity”. 

<Rose, you still have another present,> Reflectesalon reminded her before she got too carried away with the cube. 

<Thanks, Ref,> she pathed, reaching over and picked up the box from Sally-Anne. Unwrapping it, she found a book inside, along with a note. 

_Rose_ , 

_I know you like to read, and I’ve always enjoyed fairy tales, so I thought you might like this book._

_Happy Christmas_ , 

_Sally-Anne_

Rose looked at the title: _The Complete Grimm’s Fairy Tales_. Now Rose was conflicted. She had a new puzzle box to work on, a new book to read, and only two hands. Normally, she would’ve just grown more hands and done both, but after having to answer the question “Why are you so pale?” so many times, Rose figured it would be a bad idea to give people another question to ask incessantly. 

Then she got an idea. 

<Smithy, hold my book.>

<Right away, Ma’am.>

For the rest of the morning, Rose played with her new puzzle while reading the book Smithy held up for her. 

* * *

Wilfred and Sarah Perks awoke Christmas morning to find their daughter sitting at the foot of their bed, reading. This was normal for Sally-Anne; their daughter loved fairy tales, and they had a standing agreement that a new book of fairy tales would be on her nightstand if she let them sleep in. Thus, she was reading her new book at the foot of their bed, which served to distract her long enough for them to get sleep. 

Sally-Anne opened her presents one by one when they got to the tree. She received another book from Hermione, and a ribbon from Rose. Along with the ribbon, Rose had written her a note. 

_Sally-Anne_ , 

_The ribbon is a_ Ribbon of Persuasion. _When you wear it, you will find it easier to talk to people and get them to do what you want. You seem to have trouble talking to people, so I thought you might like it._

_Your Friend_ , 

_Rose_

After she washed up, her mum helped her tie it into her hair. The emerald color of the ribbon complemented the yellow of her hair. 

“That looks good on you, Sally-Anne,” her mum said. 

“Thanks,” Sally-Anne said. “Wouldn’t you say that even if it didn’t?” 

“Yes, but it wouldn’t sound sincere,” her mum replied. 

Sally-Anne looked at herself in the mirror. She wasn’t exactly a girly girl, but she did like being complemented, and there was something about the ribbon that she liked. Sally-Anne couldn’t put her finger on it, but it was nice to see everything falling into place. 

* * *

Having no such deal as the Perks family had, Hermione awoke her parents shortly after sunrise that morning. Even being 12, and somehow being the responsible one of her group, she was still a kid, and still enjoyed Christmas morning. 

She ran to the tree and patiently waited for her parents to join her. The rule was that they took turns opening presents. Hermione knew that the rule was made so she didn’t tear through her presents in seconds. Something about Christmas always made her excited, and, so her parents said, when she was a little girl, she’d rip through her presents before they got to the tree. 

Hermione opened Rose’s present first, ensuring that if it ended up being problematic, she could at least handle it quickly. 

Inside the small box were a ring and a hair clip. Accompanying Rose’s present was a note, and, she thought, knowing Rose, that it would probably be a good idea to read it before progressing. 

_Dear Hermione_ , 

_The ring is called a_ ring of sustenance. _It will attune to you after being worn for a week. After that, you won’t need to eat or drink (Although you can if you want), and you will only need two hours of sleep. This way, you have to really work hard to overdo it._

_I’ll let you figure out what the hair clip does._

_Your Best Friend on the Whole Plane_ , 

_Rose_

Hermione still wasn’t sure exactly what Rose meant by “The Whole Plane”, but she slipped on the ring immediately. She was a little more hesitant to try the hair clip, but she figured that Rose wouldn’t give her something dangerous. At least, Hermione _hoped_ she wouldn’t. 

Hermione fastened the clip to her hair, but didn’t feel any different. Not immediately, anyway. As the day progressed, Hermione figured out the clip’s purpose: it was making her smarter. Her memory had improved slightly, and she was finding that she could think a little faster. It wasn’t the same as when Rose had used that spell on her a few weeks ago, but it was certainly an improvement. She was also finding that so long as she wore the hair clip, the bracelet made her head hurt a little less. Hermione deduced that she could handle the rush of information more easily with the enhanced intellect. 

“So _that’s_ how she handles it so well,” Hermione muttered to herself. 

* * *

As the Twins surveyed their presents, they noticed one for each of them that hadn’t been there the previous night. Both of them were identically wrapped, and by the looks of them, the person had never wrapped a present in their life. 

The wrapping paper gave away the giver; it was red wrapping paper with roses on it. 

They exchanged glances. 

“Do we risk it?” asked George. 

“Not without taking the proper precautions,” Fred replied. 

The boys used their wands to unwrap the boxes from a distance. After nothing exploded or attacked them, the Twins cautiously approached them. 

Inside the boxes, they each found a brown fedora. Confused, they picked up the note (which had been split into two halves and divided between the two boxes) and read it. 

_George and Fred_ , 

_These are called_ hats of disguise. _Once you don one, you will be able to alter your appearance at will. There are limitations to it, the big one being that it’s an illusion. Otherwise, you must always be wearing a headpiece (not necessarily a hat), and must be within one foot of your original appearance._

_Enjoy_ , 

_Rose_

_P.S. Every good trap maker knows to make the trap affect both the area of the trap, and 10 feet back. Remember that next time you try stepping back to unwrap something I give you._

The boys each donned their respective hats and grinned at one another. They knew exactly how to test these. 

* * *

Harry and Ron descended the stairs to the Gryffindor Common Room, and found Percy sitting on one of the couches. To their astonishment, Percy was being harassed by… himself. Two of himself, to be precise. 

“Stop that this instant!” Percy One shouted. 

“Yeah, stop it!” Percy Two shouted at Percy Three. 

“You stop it!” Percy Three responded. 

“What?” Ron asked. 

Harry squinted. He had awoken to find his glasses missing. Since he didn’t own a spare set, he was nearly blind for the time being. 

“I see you boys are enjoying yourselves,” Rose said, materializing at the foot of the stairwell to the girls’ rooms. Harry’s eyesight being what it was, she could’ve been there before, and Harry just hadn’t been able to see her. 

“What’s going on?” Ron asked her. 

“They’re just enjoying the presents I made them,” Rose replied. She handed boxes to Ron and Harry. “Happy Christmas!” 

“Rose, have you seen my glasses?” Harry asked her, taking the box he was handed. 

“Right!” Rose exclaimed. She handed Harry his glasses. “I modified them for you.” 

“What?” asked Harry, putting on his glasses. As he did, he discovered what Rose meant. Everything around him was more significant. He could see further than he could before, and he was pretty sure that his hearing had improved. 

“Thanks,” he said, still astounded. “How did you do that?” 

“Magic!” she exclaimed. 

Behind her, Percy Two and Three waved their hands in a wide arc. 

“Oooh!” Percy Two said. 

“Aaah!” Percy Three added. 

“ _You_ did this?!” roared Percy One to Rose. 

“Don’t worry,” Rose said. “I took proper precautions.” 

* * *

Minerva was a little concerned by the presence of a box wrapped in red paper on her nightstand, but she opened it anyway. The rose pattern covering it indicated that it was most likely from Peta-Lorrum, but she wasn’t really sure _why_ the first-year was giving her a present. She didn’t even bother asking how Peta-Lorrum had gotten into her apartment, because she didn’t _want_ to know. 

Inside the box was a gold pendant bearing a design of an eye. Along with the pendant was a note. 

_Dear Professor McGonagall_ , 

_I want to start off by apologizing for giving the Weasley Twins each a_ hat of disguise. _These hats will allow them to take on the form of anyone they choose. It won’t be obvious to anyone else who they are, but this pendant will allow you to identify them. Upon each of them is a mark I placed myself while they were asleep. This mark is invisible to anyone except for the wearer of this pendant. This way, you will be able to identify them no matter what they look like._

_Further, while you wear the pendant, you may place an identical mark on anyone or anything else once per day. The marks will never fade._

_Happy Snowy Time_ , 

_Rose Peta-Lorrum_

Minerva wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, but at the very least, it was a nice pendant. She slipped it on over her neck, but realized that Peta-Lorrum hadn’t explained _how_ to use it. She picked up a quill from her desk, and held it in her hand. 

_How does this pendant work?_

As she thought that, a small eye was inscribed upon the quill. It seemed to float upon the quill, not exactly on it, but not exactly above it either. 

_Interesting_ , thought Minerva. _I might finally be able to keep track of people around here._

* * *

Harry opened the small box he had received from Rose, and found a white ring with clouds etched into it inside. 

Rose grinned. 

“It’s a _ring of feather falling_ ,” she explained. “Next time you almost fall off of your broom, that ring will prevent you from taking any falling damage.” 

Harry stared at Rose while trying to comprehend her. He normally would have asked Hermione or Sally-Anne for a Rose-to-English translation, but since neither girl was there to ask, he had to work it out for himself. 

“Does… does that mean I can fall off my broom and not get hurt?” 

“Yup!” 

“From any height?” 

“Any height greater than five feet!” 

Harry looked down at the ring, then slipped it on his finger. 

“Thanks, Rose,” he said. 

“No problem, Harry!” 

He looked down at the ground. “I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything.” 

“Don’t worry about it!” she replied cheerfully. “I like making things! I’m an Artificer; It’s what I do!” 

Ron quickly opened his present from Rose, and found a bracelet inside. 

He held it up, looking at it with confusion. 

“It’s just like the one Hermione’s got,” Rose explained. “Touch a book to read it. Command word’s ‘Derp’.” 

“‘Derp’?” 

“‘Derp’,” Rose confirmed. 

Ron’s eyes grew wide, and he ran over to one of the bookshelves in the Common Room. 

Rose turned to Harry, and began to count down. 

“Six… five,” she whispered, indicating the number on her fingers. “Four… three… two… one…” She pointed at Ron, who began to clutch his head. 

“What the–” 

“You’ll get used to it,” Rose replied. “It’s what happens when an entire book of information rushes into your head all at once.” Turning to Harry, she asked, “Get anything else good?” 

“Yeah,” he replied. “I got an invisibility cloak.” 

“Interesting,” Rose replied. “ _Invisibility_ , _greater invisibility_ , or _superior invisibility_?” 

“Erm… I don’t know.” 

“Let’s find out,” Rose replied, climbing to her feet. “Have you got it on you?” 

“It’s up in my room,” Harry replied. “I’ll go grab it.” 

“I’ll go with you,” Ron said, eager to try out the bracelet on more books. 

To their surprise, when the boys reached their room, Rose was waiting for them. 

“What?” Ron asked. He struggled for words, but his head still hurt a little from the bracelet. “What?!” Since no other words would reach his head, he uttered a third “ _What?!_ ” 

“That’s not important right now,” Rose said, smiling. “Where’s the cloak?” 

“Right here,” Harry said, pulling a silvery green cloak from his bed. He wrapped it around him, but nothing seemed to happen. 

Rose pulled her goggles onto her forehead, and realized that he _had_ in fact disappeared. 

“Oh good,” she muttered. Replacing her goggles, she said, “Alright, now what attack spells do you know?” 

“Er… I think I can do a disarming charm,” Harry said as Ron groaned from another bracelet-induced headache. 

_I can hear him, so not_ superior invisibility, reasoned Rose. 

_Serendipity_ appeared in Rose’s hand. “That should do for now. Try disarming me.” 

Harry raised his wand, which was harder to do with the cloak wrapped around him. 

“ _Expelliarmus!_ ” 

Rose’s wand was knocked out of her hand and flew backward. Even after doing this, Harry remained invisible. 

“Use activated item of _invisibility_ , possibly _greater invisibility_ ,” Rose said, picking up _Serendipity_. “Now that I think about it, a use activated item of _greater invisibility_ is pointless, since _invisibility_ would persist even after an attack with a continuous item like that.” 

“Huh?” asked Harry, removing the cloak. 

“Your cloak is _kethé_ ,” Rose replied. 

“That’s… shiny?” 

“Yup!” Rose turned to Ronald. “Ronald, if you overdo it, you’re going to end up in the Hospital Wing with a splitting headache that will make you think your head’s on fire.” 

The foolish Gryffindor was lying on his bed, holding his hands over his head. 

“How does Hermione deal with this?” he moaned. 

“Same way I do: She’s had practice.” 

* * *

Just as unnerved as his coworker had been was Severus Snape. He had considered throwing the red box into the fire, but was reluctant to do so due to the possibility that it would explode when he did so. 

From the other side of his room, he carefully unwrapped and opened the box. He levitated its contents out of it, revealing a black, diamond-shaped pendant with a black chain, and a note. 

Severus levitated the note over to himself, and began to read it. 

_Dear Professor Snape_ , 

_You know how you really like striking fear into the hearts of students? Well, this pendant will make them even more afraid of you then they already were!_

_Your Friend_ , 

_Rose Peta-Lorrum_

“We’re not friends, Peta-Lorrum,” he growled to himself. He looked at the pendant that now floated in front of him. He couldn’t trust Peta-Lorrum; that was for sure. While Severus didn’t have any reason _not_ to trust her, he was of the opinion that one should distrust everyone until given reason to do otherwise. 

Peta-Lorrum _insisted_ on grinding his nerves by attempting to be “nice” to him. Knowing Gryffindors, it was probably just some sort of trick she was trying to play on him. 

Severus returned the pendant to the box, where he decided it would remain until it could be properly tested. 

* * *

**Note:** Harry’s glasses provide him with a +5 to Perception, Minerva’s pendant allows her to use _Dragoneye Rune_ once per day, and Severus’s pendant gives him a +10 to Intimidate. 


	17. Mirror, Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a mirror is discovered, and Ron learns an important lesson.

**Disclaimer:** If you ask the mirror on the wall who owns Harry Potter, it will reply with “J.K. Rowling”. 

Also, I own none of the songs in this chapter, and I’m sorry if I get any annoying songs stuck in anyone’s head. 

* * *

“What should I do with the cloak?” Harry asked that night. The three of them were in the mostly empty Common Room. Rose had begun to notice that it was frequently empty, in fact. What did everyone else do with their time? 

“You could use it to explore the castle!” Rose exclaimed. As she had been doing most of the day, Rose was playing with the puzzle cube that Hermione had got her. 

“Do you think we could use it to sneak past that dog on the third floor?” Ron asked. 

“Right,” Rose said. “I had forgotten about that.” 

“ _Hermione_ won’t help us figure out what it’s guarding,” Ron whined. “She keeps telling us to drop it.” 

“Ron, it _is_ a giant, three-headed dog,” Harry said. 

“But don’t you want to know what’s under it?” he asked eagerly. “Hermione was the one who said she saw a trapdoor! I just want to know what’s through it! Without Ms. Bossy Know-It-All here to spoil our fun, we can really find out!” 

“I’m sorry, Ronald?” Rose said. She stopped playing with the cube and leaned closer to Ron. “I didn’t catch that. What was it you just called my best friend?” 

Normally, Rose had the biggest grin that Harry had ever seen on a person’s face. Her whole face lit up when she was happy or excited, which was most of the time, but now there was something about Rose’s eyes that made Harry… scared. Her typical grin was still present, but her eyes were those of a predator that had just fixated on its latest prey. 

Throughout his life, Harry had found that it benefited him to remain silent. He kept his voice and head down, and his life was made significantly easier for it. His uncle yelled at him, and beat him, less so long as he did what he was told. 

Not speaking often had helped Harry to improve his ability to notice details about people and places. It had occurred to him that this was probably part of what made him good at Quidditch, since his entire responsibility in a match was to find a small, golden object that moved at a speed with which most people had difficulty keeping up. Add to this Rose’s improvements to his glasses, and he was able to notice the changes in Rose’s expression with little difficulty. 

_Ron_ , however, had not had such benefits. The primary lesson that he had learned from _his_ short life was that it was the loudest voice that was heard. So he only noticed a smile on his friend’s face. He wasn’t sure why she was smiling, but he figured that it was that she had found his joke funny. Growing up comparing himself to Fred and George, Ron never fancied himself a comedian, given that those two always had something clever to say in any situation. 

Of course, it was the Twins that had made Ron distrust a smile, but this wasn’t a “We’re up to something” smile, so he was pretty sure he could trust it. Coming to this conclusion, Ron thought it best to smile back at Rose, whose smile broadened in response. Ron felt pretty good about himself, until he noticed Harry shaking his head cautiously at the red-head. 

<He believes that he has amused you,> Reflectesalon informed Rose. 

<Oh, he’s amused me alright,> Rose replied. <Just not in a way that’s likely to ensure him a long, healthy, _fire-free_ life. >

Rose’s grin vanished, her mouth instead forming a snarl. <That oughta be more obvious.>

To her delight, Ron’s grin faded. 

“One more time,” Rose said. “What was it you just called my best friend?” 

“Ron, she ripped a dragon apart in seconds,” Harry hissed. 

“I said she was a… a delightful person!” Ron said quickly. He was amazed that he had gotten those words out, as his brain was too busy shouting “DANGER! DANGER!” to aid him in conjuring words to construct into sentences. 

Rose’s expression returned to normal, and she resumed playing with the cube. “That’s what I thought you said, Cohort.” She turned to Harry. “As Emergency Backup Hermione, and the actual PC, what do you think is in there, Harry?” 

Harry wasn’t sure how he felt about being “Emergency Backup Hermione”, but it was certainly better than “Cohort” that she frequently called Ron. “Er, I’m not really sure.” Then he remembered what he and Ron had noticed a few months back. “Wait! Actually, I might know!” 

Rose grinned and handed the cube to Smithy. “What’ve you got?” 

“When Hagrid and I were out getting school supplies, we stopped by Gringotts to pick up some money from my family’s vault. Hagrid also stopped at this one vault and picked up a small package. He wouldn’t tell me what it was, but told me that it was ‘Official Hogwarts Business’, whatever that meant.” 

“Interesting,” Rose said. As Harry recalled all of this, Rose wrote it down in her notebook. 

“And then a few weeks later, I saw in the _Daily Prophet_ that that same vault had been broken into, but they said that the contents had been emptied already.” 

“So someone _really_ wants that package,” Rose said. “How big was it?” 

“Small,” Harry said, cupping his hands together. “Maybe about this size? I don’t know, but it fit in the palm of Hagrid’s hand.” 

“That’s not saying much,” Ron muttered. 

“On the contrary, Cohort, it tells us plenty,” Rose said, closing her notebook and taking her cube back from Smithy. “Mr. Hagrid was sent to pick up the package, and then ordered a three-headed dog to guard it. That means that Mr. Hagrid will be our best lead for finding out what’s hiding past that trapdoor.” 

“I tried asking him about it a few months ago after the Quidditch match against Slytherin,” Harry said. “He wouldn’t talk about it.” 

“Hmm.” Rose thought for a moment. “If he’s anything like Mr. Grund, and he really is, then we just need to get him drunk! Then he’ll tell us everything!” 

“What did you just say?” 

Harry froze. It was just his luck that Percy would pick that exact moment to enter the Common Room. 

“Salutations, Percy!” Rose greeted him. “Where were you?” 

“ _I_ was making my rounds,” he replied. “Did you just say–” 

“No, you weren’t,” Rose interrupted him. “I, like your brothers, have memorized your schedule, and your rounds don’t start for another hour. It’s actually Alex’s shift, and, since I know she’s still at Hogwarts, I know that you’re not just covering her shift. Considering you just lied to us, assuming that we didn’t know your shift, you’re most likely covering up your _actual_ whereabouts.” Rose grinned. “Now, given that I _know_ your actual whereabouts, and that I know _why_ you’re covering them up, I think it would benefit both of us to forget that we saw each other.” 

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum,” Percy replied sternly as the pale girl stood up from her seat. 

She placed the cube with which she had been playing over her shoulder, where it hung in suspended animation, and began to walk over to him, flipping through her notebook. 

“If you are seriously considering getting someone drunk, then I must–” 

Percy stopped talking when he saw what the first-year had written in her notebook. Unlike all the surrounding text, which Percy was only assuming was text, it was in plain English. It read: “ _Percy Weasley x Penelope Clearwater_ ” 

“As I said,” she said quietly as the text changed to scribbles. “I think it would benefit both of us to forget that we saw one another. Unless, of course, you want me to show this to Fred and George, whom I are the reason that you have kept this a secret.” 

“That’s blackmail,” Percy hissed. “ _And_ I can’t just ignore an attempt to get a person _drunk_!” 

“Please,” Rose said. “It was just an idea! I’m not _actually_ going to get Mr. Hagrid drunk, I’m just going to have Reflectesalon read his mind! Honestly, Percy, where would I even obtain alcohol?!” 

Percy stared at the first-year. Why? What had he done to deserve this? Wasn’t having the Twins bad enough?! Why did there have to be a first-year that was quickly becoming _just as bad as they were?!_ Why?! It wasn’t fair! 

“Don’t let me catch you again,” Percy said as authoritatively as he could manage. He walked off up the boys’ stairs, still wondering what he had done to deserve this. 

“Where was he?” Ron asked Rose eagerly as she sat down. The thought of having information that even his brothers didn’t have was too much for the first-year. He _had_ to know. 

“Not telling,” Rose said simply, placing the notebook on her lap. 

_If only I could read that notebook of hers_ , Ron thought to himself. Then he realized that he could! Ron reached over quickly and touched the book, muttering “Derp.” as he did. 

“Derp is quite right, Ronald,” Rose said, not even flinching as the red-head was encased in a block of some sort of amber. 

Harry stared at him. “Rose, what did you do?” 

“That, my friends, is called a _sepia snake sigil_ ,” Rose replied. “The first words of my book is ‘Keep Out’ in Common, in which I embedded the symbol. The rest of it is in Celestial, which you would’ve been unable to understand, by the way.” She giggled. “Right, he can’t hear us. While _scholar’s touch_ has no effect on magic text, _technically_ the text isn’t magical. But once it’s read,” She motioned to Ron, “ _that_ happens.” 

Rose snapped her fingers, and the amber encasing Ron vanished. 

“Now Cohort, what have we learned today?” 

“Er…” he said, still disoriented. 

“Don’t mess with Rose’s things,” she said, then motioned to the confused ginger. “ _Your_ turn.” 

“Don’t mess with Rose’s things,” he repeated hesitantly. 

Rose nodded condescendingly. “Splendid. Now, I say we go visit Mr. Hagrid after the girls get back.” 

“Why?” Ron asked. “If we can just find out _now_ , then why not do it?” 

“And leave out half the party?!” Rose exclaimed. “That’s just cruel, Cohort.” She stood up, shaking her head. “I’m gonna go to bed. I recommend you two do the same. Harry, if you would like to explore the castle with your cloak, we can do that tomorrow night.” 

“Why not tonight?” 

“Cos I’m fairly certain the Twins are up to something tonight, and we probably don’t want to be directly involved.” 

She walked up the stairs to her room before the boys could have a chance to ask why she knew that. 

<Also,> she mentioned to Reflectesalon. <I’m going to see if Professor Snape wants to hang out tomorrow, and I want to make sure that I’m not distracted.>

* * *

Severus Snape was having a nice, relaxing Thursday morning. Winter break was wonderful; it meant that most of the students were gone, and he didn’t have to deal with any annoying– 

“Professor Snape?” 

_Damn it!_

“What do you want, Peta-Lorrum?” he growled. 

_Knock Knock Knock-Knock Knock._

“ _Do you want to build a snowman?_ ” 

“What?” he deadpanned. It wasn’t just his least favorite student; it was worse. It was his least favorite student _singing_. 

“ _Come on! Let’s go and play!_ ” 

“Stop that singing at once!” he roared, storming over to the door. 

“ _I never see you anymore! Come out the door! It’s like you’ve gone away!_ ” 

“There’s a reason for that,” he said through gritted teeth. What was the meaning of this new onslaught of nonsense from Peta-Lorrum? Why couldn’t she be like a _normal_ student and be too frightened of him to bother him outside of class?! 

“ _We used to be best buddies! But now we’re not. I wish you would tell me why!_ ” 

“We have _never_ been friends, Peta-Lorrum!” he shouted. 

“ _Do you want to build a snowman! It doesn’t have to be a snowman!_ ” 

“NO!” Severus shouted from the other side of the door. 

“ _Okay, bye._ ” 

“Ah!” Severus opened his eyes, saw that he was still in his office, then realized that someone really _was_ knocking on his door. 

_I’ve got to stop pulling all-nighters. They’re not worth the bizarre daydreams._

“Professor Snape?” came Peta-Lorrum’s voice. 

“I don’t want to build a bloody snowman!” 

There was a long pause in the knocking. 

“What?” came the reply. 

“Go away, Peta-Lorrum!” 

“Fine.” 

After not hearing anything for sixty seconds, Severus concluded that the pest was finally gone. 

Severus pulled out a piece of parchment from his desk and began to write down ways of poisoning someone without leaving a trace. The only tricky part would be administering the poison. Severus figured he could slip it in the girl’s drink during one of her meals. It would simply appear to be an unfortunate accident, and then he would _finally_ be rid of that pest once and for all! 

Sure, resorting to murder might be a _little_ extreme, but he had _no way_ of punishing this girl! Take away points? She didn’t care. Give her detention? That was more of a punishment for Severus than for Peta-Lorrum. Assign extra work? She did it without complaints! Severus had tried taking the issue to Albus, but Albus had taken some sort of interest in the girl. Minerva was even worse; she seemed to be _amused_ by the whole thing! If he wanted that girl gone, he needed a means of getting rid of her himself. 

It was just then that something occurred to Severus. It was borderline diabolical, but it just might work. He burned the parchment, just in case someone went snooping through his desk, and sat back in his chair. Severus began to form a plan. 

* * *

That night, Harry and Rose met in the Common Room. 

“Ready?” Rose asked him. 

Harry threw the cloak over himself, vanishing from the sight of most people. 

Using a wand from her quiver, Rose vanished from the sight of all people. 

“Rose?” Harry whispered, looking around. 

“Right here,” she replied. 

The pair wandered through the halls, with Rose whispering to herself every so often. 

“Rose, what are you doing?” Harry asked after the fifth time he heard Rose whispering. 

“Asking the stones if anyone interesting has been through here.” 

Harry paused for a moment, stopping in his tracks. “What?” 

“I can talk to the stones!” 

Harry blinked. That one was new on him. He had heard Rose say some mad things lately, but, save for maybe the bit about being partially undead, that one took the cake. “What?” 

“Remember a few months ago when I started screaming in the middle of Transfigurations?” 

“Yeah,” Harry said slowly, nodding. The two began to move again, a little more slowly so Harry could continue to process the information. “Ron said that you just went mental.” 

“Which is what I let everyone believe,” Rose replied, smiling an invisible smile. “What _actually_ happened was that the castle began murmuring. No one else can hear it, but the castle speaks sometimes. Due to _speak with anything_ , I can understand the castle, which means that I can hear it when it starts talking. Or, as was the case that day, _screaming_.” 

“Are you sure?” Harry asked. It certainly sounded mad. How could anyone _hear_ the castle? 

“Yup!” replied Rose. “Professor Dumbledore confirmed my suspicions when he visited me in the Hospital Wing. I asked Neville, who ends up there often, and he says that Professor Dumbledore has never once visited him. That means that I was a special case.” 

“But that could mean anything.” 

“Yeah, but it’s different, so it’s important.” 

Harry noticed that Rose seemed to be leading him in a more obvious direction. 

“Where are we going?” 

“The stones told me that Professor Dumbledore was through here recently. The tracks lead from the Room of Requirement and are heading down, I think.” 

“What’s the Room of Requirement?” 

“A story for another day,” Rose replied. She lead Harry down to the fourth floor, and into a disused classroom. 

“Here we are,” she said, appearing before Harry’s eyes. He followed suit and removed his cloak. 

“Where are we?” he whispered. 

“Fourth floor,” Rose replied. “That’s all I know, although I think _that_ is significant.” 

A large curtain stood before them. Rose looked around the room for anything obviously trapped, then removed the curtain. 

As Rose pulled off the curtain, Harry gasped at what he saw. 

The mirror spanned almost the entire height of the classroom. Across the top of the gold frame were the words “ _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi._ ” He didn’t know what that meant, but he was vastly more interested in what he saw _in_ the mirror. 

Standing beside him were his parents. Everyone was right; he looked _just_ like his father. His mother smiled kindly at him with the same eyes as him. Her face was warm, loving, caring; everything that her sister Petunia _wasn’t_. 

“It’s my parents,” Harry breathed. “I can see my parents!” 

_Uh oh_ , thought Rose. _This can’t end well._

Rose hadn’t looked at the mirror yet, but was looking nervously at Harry. 

“Look!” he whispered, pointing at the mirror. “Can’t you see them?” 

Rose looked into the mirror, and saw the two people that she missed the most. She could talk with Shadow, Alice, or Sk’lar all she wanted; she could ask for help from Uncle Oz, and despite how much fun she had with him, she didn’t miss Mr. Grund all that much. Rose couldn’t talk with the two people in the mirror. 

She didn’t see Harry’s parents; she saw _her_ parents. 

Rose walked up to the mirror, placing her gloved hand gently on the glass. 

“ _Mirror, mirror, what’s behind you?_  
  _Save me from the things I see._  
  _I can keep it from the world_ ,  
  _why won’t you let me hide from me?_ ”  


“Can you understand that writing?” asked Harry. 

“What writing?” asked Rose. 

“That writing,” Harry replied, pointing to the top of the frame. 

“No, it’s a poem,” Rose said, “or maybe a song, I forget.” She looked at the writing along the top of the mirror. “ _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi_.” 

“What’s it say?” Harry asked. He vaguely remembered something about Rose being able to understand any language. 

“No idea; it won’t translate.” She looked at it again, trying a Linguistics Check this time. “ _I show you not your face, but your heart’s desire._ ” 

“But you just said–” 

“It’s backwards.” 

Harry looked at the words and realized that she was right. Then he looked at the mirror. 

“So… it shows us what we want to see?” 

“Makes sense,” Rose replied. “You see your parents; I see mine.” 

“Oh.” Harry sat down in front of it and stared longingly into the glass. They stared silently back at him. He had never seen his parents before. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry noticed a small, blue and black ferret with wings fly out of Rose’s basket and perch next to the door. 

Rose sat down beside Harry and looked into the mirror. She looked over at Harry and understood exactly how he felt. She put her arm around Harry’s shoulders. 

“It’s alright, Harry,” she whispered. “I miss mine, too.” 

* * *

Every night, Harry and Rose returned to the mirror. Harry started sleeping in, and Rose didn’t need sleep. One night, they were joined by a third person. 

“I see you two have found the Mirror of Erised,” came a voice from behind them. 

Harry turned around to see Professor Dumbledore standing in the classroom with them. 

“Salutations, Professor,” Rose said absently, not turning around. 

“I thought I had seen you two wandering down here at night,” the Headmaster said. 

“What did you say it’s called?” Harry asked. 

“The Mirror of Erised,” Dumbledore replied. 

“Why is it here?” Rose asked, still not looking away from the Mirror. 

“Many years back, one of the professors brought it here to do some research on it,” Professor Dumbledore replied. “We were quite fascinated by it.” 

“It bypasses Occlumency shields,” Rose said idly. 

“Correct,” Dumbledore replied. “I take it the Mirror can even show you _your_ desire?” 

“Yeah. And it’s not an illusion either; it’s actually altering our thoughts to make us believe that we see what we want. Otherwise, I’d see through it with _true seeing_.” She looked up at the Headmaster. “It’s an artifact at least, if not an actual deity in disguise. Those are the only options for bypassing _mind blank_.” 

“Good to know,” Dumbledore said. “What do you see?” 

“Mum and Dad,” breathed Harry. 

“Same,” Rose said. 

“Just know, that _men have wasted away before it, not knowing if what they have seen is real, or even possible. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that._ ” 

Once again, both first-years nodded. 

“Why is it in a random classroom?” Rose asked. 

“This is only a temporary home for the Mirror,” he said. “It will be moved to a new location in a few days.” 

“Why not just move it directly from the Room of Requirement?” Rose asked. 

“Preparations needed to be made, and not all the staff can find the Room of Requirement,” Albus replied, not questioning how Rose knew it had previously lived in the Room of Requirement. 

Rose nodded her apathetic understanding. 

“Rose, use caution when looking at your clasp in the Mirror. A reflection will reflect what you see.” 

“What?” Harry asked. 

Rose looked at the reflection of Reflectesalon in the Mirror and saw what he meant. Looking back at her from Reflectesalon was an eye. It was yellow, almost golden, with a narrow, black slit for a pupil. She knew that eye; along with its twin, it haunted her nightmares. 

_You will_ never _be free from me!_

His words echoed in her head as she closed her eyes and screamed. 

“Rose!” gasped Harry. 

Rose slowly opened her eyes, and quickly covered Reflectesalon with her hands so she wouldn’t have to see the Abomination again. 

“It shows our worst fear,” she said shakily. Harry noticed that her hands were trembling over her clasp. “When the Mirror of Erised reflects a mirror, that reflection shows our worst fear.” 

She glared at Professor Dumbledore. 

“You could’ve just _said_ that,” she hissed, “but I guess then we wouldn’t have _learned_ anything.” 

“I’m sorry,” Professor Dumbledore replied. 

Harry didn’t know what his worst fear was, but he really didn’t _want_ to know. He made a mental note not to look into Rose’s clasp while looking at the Mirror. Considering whatever Rose had seen had really spooked her, he didn’t think that was going to be a problem; her hands weren’t moving from her clasp. 

Rose took a few deep breaths, and looked at her parents again. They knelt down beside her, wanting to ensure the safety of their daughter. She smiled at them, and slowly stopped trembling. 

“What do you see, Professor?” asked Rose after she had calmed down. 

“I see myself holding a nice pair of white, woolen socks,” he replied, glancing in the Mirror. “One can never have too many of them. Unfortunately, people keep giving me books for Christmas.” 

A grin slowly crossed Rose’s face, and she turned to Harry. “Harry, I know what we’re going to do tomorrow.” 

Harry glanced nervously at Rose, then looked back at the Mirror of Erised. 

“Until then, I think you two should get some sleep,” Professor Dumbledore said. 

“I don’t need sleep,” Rose said. “Another effect of _veil of undeath_.” 

“Ah yes,” the Headmaster replied. “You know, you gave Madame Pomfrey quite the scare when you first started using that.” 

“Sorry about that,” Rose said, turning to Harry. “He’s right, though, Harry; you _do_ need more sleep.” 

“But–” 

“Harry, your parents lived for some 30 years, right?” Rose said. “We _must_ be able to get a picture of them somehow. Then, you can stare at _it_ longingly.” 

Harry took one last look at the Mirror, then turned to Rose. “I guess you’re right,” he replied sadly. He pulled his invisibility cloak over him, and began to leave. 

Rose glanced over at Harry as he was leaving, then turned back to Professor Dumbledore. 

“Professor, Carolina told me something when we first met. She said ‘The most cheerful people are often the ones that need to smile the most.’ I think you hide your pain the same way, because even someone as content as Carolina or Uncle Oz wouldn’t see socks in the Mirror.” 

“If you would remind me, which of your friends is Carolina?” 

Rose mentally noted that he was changing the subject. He wasn’t denying it, but casually moved the subject away from it. Rose knew that trick; she had done the same thing to Carolina on more than one occasion when the subject of Rose’s or Sk’lar’s parents came up. 

“Saint Carolina Bulard,” she replied, a genuine smile on her face. “The nicest person I’ve ever met. No matter what, she always tries to do the right thing. She once tried to explain it to me. She said that she sees a person in need, and she helps them. Simple as that. She doesn’t stop and think about the benefit to herself, she just helps. And she doesn’t let something like hatred get in her way of being nice to people.” 

“She sounds like quite a wonderful person,” Albus replied. If Rose was indeed telling the truth, then she had met some extraordinary people. “I certainly hope that I can meet her some day.” 

“Me too,” Rose said. She waved one of her various wands and vanished from sight. “Good night, Professor Dumbledore.” 

“Good night, Rose.” 

Albus took one last look at his family in the Mirror, sighed, then replaced the curtain over the Mirror. 

* * *

<Ref, I’ve got a question for you,> Rose asked her clasp on the way back to her room. 

<What is it?> Reflectesalon replied. 

<You can see and hear, so what did _you_ see in the Mirror? >

<I see _you_ , Rose. My entire purpose is to serve you in whatever capacity I can. I follow your every instruction and remain completely loyal to you. When I looked into the Mirror of Erised, I saw you completely happy, because when _you_ are happy, Rose, it means that _I_ have done well. >

Rose smiled. For ten years, Reflectesalon had been all that she had left of her parents. Now, he was all that she had left of her _plane_. It comforted her to know that he would always be there for her. She undid her clasp from its resting place, and gently kissed him. After all, she couldn’t hug him without getting creative. 

<Thanks, Ref.>

<You are welcome.>

Rose replaced Reflectesalon on her cloak, and happily skipped off down the corridor back to Gryffindor Tower. 

* * *

Just over twenty-four hours later, when Albus descended the stairs that led from his room to his office, he found a box on his desk. It was wrapped in red wrapping paper, decorated with a rose pattern. Opening the box, Albus found a pair of white, woolen socks inside. Along with the socks was a note: 

_Dear Professor Dumbledore_ , 

_Not only will these socks keep your feet warm, they will also keep the rest of you comfortable in temperatures ranging between -50°F and 140°F. I hope you enjoy them._

_Your Friend_ , 

_Rose_

Albus smiled delightedly. 

“I think your friend Carolina would be proud of you, Rose,” he said as he placed the socks on his feet. 

* * *

The days passed by, and, true to the Headmaster’s word, the Mirror was gone a few nights later. Harry was upset that he could no longer see his parents, but Rose said that she would figure out something for him. Given everything else that Harry had seen the girl do in the past few weeks, it wouldn’t surprise him. 

Professor Dumbledore asked them not to go looking for the Mirror, a request that even Rose obeyed. She reasoned that the Headmaster had been right; it didn’t do them any good to dwell on the past. 

Several days later, Harry was awoken by a voice at his door. 

“Harry?” 

Harry slowly got out of bed and walked over to the door. “Rose?” he replied groggily, before reaching the door. 

_Knock Knock Knock-Knock Knock._

“ _Will you help me hide a body?_ ” 

“Will I help– _WHAT?!_ ” 

The top of Harry’s list of weird things that Rose had done had just changed from “talking to stones” to “asking to hide a body”. 

“ _C’mon we can’t delay!_ ” 

“What?! Why?!” 

“ _No one can see him on the floor; get him out the door; before he can decay!_ ” 

“Rose, are you feeling alright?” asked Harry, although he was certain that he wouldn’t get a helpful answer, if he got one at all. 

“ _I thought you were my buddy. We won’t get caught. Just help me and don’t ask why!_ ” 

Harry no longer had words other than ’What’. When was Hermione getting back? Wasn’t dealing with Rose’s… Roseyness Hermione’s responsibility? 

“ _Will you help me hide a body? It doesn’t have to be in one piece._ ” 

Rose paused, so Harry assumed that she was waiting for an answer this time. 

“N-No, Rose. I don’t want to help you hide a body.” 

“ _Oh dear, why?_ ” 

“Harry?” 

Harry sat up in his bed and looked around. Rose was standing next to his bed, her head tilted to one side. He had stopped asking long ago how she got into their rooms. He was almost certain that girls weren’t allowed in the boys’ rooms, just as boys weren’t allowed in the girls’ rooms, but Rose, being Rose, didn’t seem to care. 

_It was just a dream. Thank God, or Merlin, or whatever, it was just a dream!_

“Are you alright?” 

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he said, putting his glasses on. “Rose, you don’t… you don’t need to hide a dead body, do you?” 

“No, why?” she asked. Had it been anyone else, Harry figured that he would’ve got a strange look, or been asked if he was feeling alright, but Rose just looked confused. “Do _you_? Cos I know a few good places to hide one!” And now she looked excited. 

Harry stared at her. “No, and… Never mind, I’m not going to ask why you know.” 

“Good idea,” she replied sagely. “The fewer questions involved in hiding dead bodies, the better.” She looked at him expectantly. “Well? Come one! Get dressed! Hermione and Sally-Anne are going to be back soon!” 

_Finally!_ thought Harry as he got up. _Let_ Hermione _deal with her insanity._

* * *

**Note:** _Do You Want to Build a Snowman?_ lyrics by Robert Lopez and Kristen Anderson-Lopez, _Mirror, Mirror_ lyrics by Jeff Williams, and _Will You Help Me Hide a Body?_ is by Carmen -Mary Medley- and Co. 


	18. Break Time's Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Severus enacts his cunning and ingenious plan.

**Disclaimer** Let it be known that J.K. Rowling will never take a break from owning Harry Potter. 

* * *

Hermione and Sally-Anne were on the Hogwarts Express, returning to another term at the magical school. Both girls agreed that it had been a relaxing winter. No bullies to bother them, no mean professors to assign them unfair amounts of homework, and no dragons, trolls, or psychotic professors trying to kill them. 

“I like the ribbon in your hair,” Hermione said to her dirty-blonde friend. 

The ribbon was emerald green, which complemented Sally-Anne’s bright green eyes well. The ribbon was a brighter green than the Slytherin house colors, and was tied neatly into Sally-Anne’s hair. 

“Thanks,” Sally-Anne said. “It was a present from Rose.” 

“What’s it supposed to do?” Hermione asked. Hermione had received several gifts from Rose, and _all_ of them had some sort of magical properties. She had therefore reached the conclusion that there was no way that Rose would give someone an ordinary object. 

“She said it will make it easier to talk to people,” Sally-Anne said. “Everyone’s been complementing me on it, so I guess it also makes people like me more.” 

“Knowing Rose, it might,” Hermione said. “She gave me a hair clip that’s making me smarter.” 

“That’s pretty neat,” Sally-Anne said. “You know, as sweet as she is, it was nice getting a bit of a break from Rose.” 

“I’m not sure I’d describe her as ‘sweet’.” 

“But she means well, even if she comes on a bit strong.” 

“I guess,” Hermione said. “It’s just… I don’t know.” 

“We’ll worry about it when we get back,” Sally-Anne said kindly. “We’ll be at Hogwarts soon, so let’s not worry about it until then.” 

“Yeah,” Hermione said. “That sounds like a good idea.” 

The girls sat in relaxing silence for the last few minutes of the train ride. As with the start of the previous term, Hagrid greeted them and guided the returning students to the castle. 

As they approached the castle, a crimson blur flew out of it and viciously attacked Hermione. The bushy haired girl was almost knocked over as her crimson-haired friend latched onto her like a vice grip. 

“Hermione!” 

“It’s nice to see you too, Rose,” Hermione said, awkwardly returning the hug and patting her friend on the back. 

After almost exactly six seconds, Rose released Hermione and flew towards Sally-Anne. “Sally-Anne!” 

“Thanks for the ribbon, Rose,” she said as she hugged her pale friend. 

“You’re welcome! Thanks for the book!” 

“Of course. Did you like it?” 

“Loved it! I didn’t realize the DM was thorough enough to include minor stories in this plane!” 

“Thanks for the hair clip,” Hermione added, not wanting Rose to continue on that train of thought. “It’s been great!” 

“I’m glad you two liked them,” Rose said, smiling. “How was your winter?” 

“Peaceful,” Hermione said. 

“Relaxing,” added Sally-Anne. 

“I’m sorry,” Rose said. “Wait, are peaceful and relaxing good things?” 

“Yes,” Sally-Anne replied. 

“Oh. Then that’s good!” 

“How was your holiday?” Sally-Anne asked her pale friend. 

“Let’s see,” Rose began as the trio started walking toward the castle. “The Twins liked their _hats of disguises_ , although I think Percy may try to kill me. Harry liked the upgrade I made to his glasses and the ring I gave him. Ronald has recovered after binging on the bracelet I gave him, and I don’t think Professor Snape has used his pendant yet.” 

“You gave Professor Snape a present?” asked Sally-Anne. 

“Yup! It’ll give him a +10 to Intimidation, if he ever decides it’s safe enough to use it.” 

Not five minutes back, and Hermione was already starting to worry. Why had Rose given the Potions Master a pendant that made him more intimidating than he already was? Most days Professor Snape made Hermione nervous about going to Potions class. Not only did the man insist on heavily favoring the Slytherins, but he was overly critical towards the Gryffindors. Hermione wondered if her parents had been right in that she should be keeping a log of all the unfair treatment. 

Hermione wanted to ask Rose why she had given Professor Snape a present, but she wasn’t sure that she would get a good answer past “Professor Snape and I are best friends!” Why did Rose think that Professor Snape was going to be her friend? Hermione had made the mistake of asking once, and had gotten an extensive answer about how Professor Snape was just like Rose’s best friend Shadow. What Hermione had _actually_ taken out of the conversation was that once Rose got an idea in her head, there was no arguing with her about it. 

“Is Ron’s bracelet the same as mine?” Hermione asked. 

“Yup!” 

“So he got a massive headache from using it too much?” 

“He tried reading all of our textbooks at once.” 

Hermione knew Ronald was impulsive, but that was just stupid. Having something like a bracelet that let him read textbooks like that would not be good for him. 

“Did you warn him it would do that?” 

“I did, but he tried anyway. He also tried reading my notebook after I blackmailed Percy, and that ended just as well.” 

“Isn’t your notebook in a different language?” asked Hermione, trying to ignore the part about blackmailing a prefect. “It doesn’t translate it, does it?” 

“Yup and yup,” Rose replied, smiling. “It’s also warded by a _sepia snake sigil_.” 

“Is he alright?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“He’ll be fine!” Rose replied casually. “Harry and I also found a magic mirror!” 

“Like in _Snow White_?” asked Sally-Anne. 

“It was in a classroom, not outside,” Rose replied. “Oh! Right, you mean one of those fairy tales! Sort of. Professor Dumbledore called it the Mirror of Erised. It shows you your heart’s desire.” 

Both girls stopped walking and stared at their crimson-haired friend. 

“What?” asked Hermione. “They just shoved something like _that_ in a _classroom_?!” 

“They moved it from the Room of Requirement,” Rose explained. “I guess it was being prepared for something, but it’s not there anymore.” 

“I would’ve liked to have seen it,” Sally-Anne said. “I’m not sure what I’d see.” 

“I saw my parents,” Rose said. “Harry saw his. Professor Dumbledore allegedly saw himself holding a pair of woolen socks. Naturally, I made him a pair!” 

“‘Allegedly’?” asked Hermione. 

“I don’t believe him,” Rose replied. “ _No one_ is that content. Not even Uncle Oz is that content, and he’s the most mellow person I know. Still, he needed socks, so I knitted him a pair of socks!” 

“Of course you can knit,” Hermione muttered. She liked Rose well enough, but it got on her nerves how easily everything came to her friend. Hermione had to work hard to excel, while it was as if Rose didn’t even have to try at anything. She was clever, outgoing, even athletic. 

“It’s a Craft check,” Rose replied. “However, crafting rules are superseded by magic item crafting rules, so I made Professor Dumbledore’s socks magical!” 

“Really?” Hermione asked sceptically. 

“Really!” Rose exclaimed, beaming. “ _Woolen Socks of Comfort_ , so he’ll always be comfortable no matter what the weather’s like!” 

“That was nice of you,” Sally-Anne said. “How’s Harry doing?” 

“He’s been a little mopey since the Mirror,” Rose replied. “Oh! He got an invisibility cloak!” 

“What?!” Hermione shrieked. Upon realizing that she had been so loud, she promptly quieted down. “Who gave him that?!” 

“Dunno, the note wasn’t signed. I think it was Professor Dumbledore.” 

“Does an invisibility cloak do what it sounds like?” asked Sally-Anne. 

“Yup,” replied Rose. “Use activated item of _invisibility_.” 

“That means it turns whomever wears it invisible,” Hermione translated. 

“Oh,” Sally-Anne replied. “That’s nice, I guess. Why do you think it was Professor Dumbledore that gave it to him?” 

“The note said that it was his father’s, but then it was left in the giver’s possession. Given how friendly Professor Dumbledore is towards Harry, I’m guessing it was him. My second guess is Mr. Hagrid, who seems just as friendly towards Harry. I’ve never really seen a reason to it, so I’m going with both of them knew Harry’s parents. Mr. Hagrid isn’t as subtle about his actions, I don’t think, so I don’t think he would’ve been able to pass it off so easily.” 

“I guess that makes sense,” Hermione said. She wasn’t sure if it was her enhanced intelligence that was making sense of that for her, or if she had just spent so much time around Rose that the strange girl was beginning to make sense. Hermione was really hoping for the former. 

“Wait a minute,” Hermione said. “How do you know that Hagrid’s not subtle?” 

“I’ve been doing research on the professors to verify that Professor Quirrell is the only evil one.” 

Nope, there it went. No more sense to be had here. Hermione was starting to wonder if Rose did that on purpose. Several times the girl would say something adequately rational, only to follow it up with something that was completely ludicrous. At least Hermione could take comfort in the fact that she wasn’t going mad. 

Yet. 

Rose brought the girls up to speed about everything else that had happened, including her plans to visit Mr. Hagrid. Ron had been right; Hermione was fulfilling the hesitant heroine role, and therefore wanted no part in any events that involved breaking the rules. 

“Why can’t we just leave it alone?” Hermione sighed. “Whatever it is, the professors _clearly_ don’t want students to interfere. Why not just respect their wishes?” 

“We will,” Rose said. “We aren’t going _down_ there, we’re just going to find out what _is_ down there.” 

“You said a ‘dog’ in the corridor,” Sally-Anne said. “What’s that mean?” 

“Right!” Rose exclaimed. “You weren’t there, were you? There’s a giant, three-headed dog called ‘Fluffy’ in the forbidden corridor. He’s protecting a trapdoor.” 

“Like a Cerberus?” 

“Yeah, actually,” Hermione said. “You know Greek Mythology?” 

“I like fairy tales,” Sally-Anne explained. “My parents ran out of fairy tales to read me, so they started reading me different myths and legends.” 

Rose made a note of that in her notebook. Any seasoned adventurer knew to track her team’s skills. Sally-Anne’s knowledge of myths could come in handy later. 

They arrived at Gryffindor Tower to find the boys in the Common Room. Harry and Ron were sitting at a table with a board and pieces set up on it, while Percy watched them. 

Ron was smirking, while Harry just looked bored. Ron moved one of the pieces on the board, and declared “Checkmate.” 

“Alright, now can we _please_ do something else?” Harry asked. 

“Is that chess?” Hermione asked. 

The boys turned to see the girls entering the Common Room. 

“You’re back!” Harry exclaimed. 

“I told you they were coming,” Rose said, “but you said you wanted to wait up here for them.” 

“Ron also wanted another game of chess,” Harry said, indicating the chessboard. “Which turned into _two_ games.” 

“The first game didn’t count,” Ron said. 

“Lose too easily?” Hermione asked the ginger. 

“Yeah,” Harry sighed. 

Hermione looked from Harry to Ron. “Wait, _Harry_ lost?” 

“Oh yes,” Fred said. 

“Our little Ronnikins is a chess prodigy,” George added. 

Hermione shrieked when she realized that the Twins were on either side of her. “Where did you two come from?!” 

“I thought I sensed you two,” Rose said. “Did you use the hats for camouflage?” 

“It was brilliant wasn’t it?” George asked. “It was all my idea!” 

“Was not!” shouted Fred. “I was the one who said ‘If we can change everything about ourselves, why not change into the scenery?’” 

“No, that was _me_!” 

“Not only does everyone else get them mixed up,” Percy muttered, “so do _they_.” 

“Real funny, Percy,” the Twins said together. They returned to arguing with one another. 

“Children, move!” came a voice from behind them. They turned to see Alex and a few of the other Gryffindor girls. “You’re blocking the way!” 

Fred and George sidled out of the way to allow the girls to get through, then continued their argument. 

“You know chess?” Hermione asked Ron. 

“Yeah,” he replied. “Just something I started doing when I was younger. My brother Charlie taught me, and I really had fun, so I kept playing.” 

“Oh,” Hermione said. “Wanna play?” 

Ron grinned. “Sure.” 

The Twins hadn’t been kidding. Hermione found out that Ron wasn’t just good at chess, he was _amazing_. Hermione wasn’t bad at chess, but Ron stayed at least two moves ahead of her throughout the entire match. Even though Ron was easily winning, their match attracted a crowd of people. Hermione wanted to think that she was at least giving Ron a run for his money, but realistically she knew that he wasn’t breaking a sweat. 

Hermione noticed two things outside of the match: First, Fred and George were quietly taking bets from the spectators, and second, Rose didn’t speak a word the entire time. The crimson-haired girl watched the match quietly. Other than her initial note, most likely regarding Ron’s chess aptitude, her notebook never came out either. 

When Ron finally ended the game, there were groans from several members of the audience, although Hermione noticed some of them exchanging money with Fred and George. 

“Better luck next time, Hermione,” Alex said, patting the girl on the shoulder. 

Ron and Hermione shook hands after the match. 

“You’re not bad,” Ron said a little smugly. “With a bit of practice, you might even make a challenging opponent.” 

“Thanks, I guess,” Hermione replied. “The Twins weren’t kidding, you’re _really_ good at that.” 

“I guess I’ve just got a gift.” 

“Uncle Oz and Sk’lar said you both did well,” Rose said. 

“Was _that_ why you weren’t talking out loud?” Hermione asked. 

“Yup,” Rose replied. “I was telling your moves to Sk’lar and Uncle Oz. They like chess. Sk’lar tried teaching me once, but I always get bored and zone out.” 

“Er, okay?” Ron said, looking to Hermione for help. The bushy-haired girl shrugged, so Ron added, “I guess tell them I say ‘thanks’.” 

Rose paused for a moment, then said, “‘You’re welcome’.” 

That was weird, even for Rose. Were there just a bunch of people that lived inside her head? Ron looked at Hermione again, hoping that she would provide the answer, but Hermione just shook her head and mouthed, “Don’t ask.” 

* * *

The rest of the week was spent returning to the routine of school. They weren’t required to do flight lessons anymore, a fact in which Hermione took comfort. She didn’t exactly enjoy them, and not being forced to be suspended in the air on a broom was a nice change of pace. 

Friday rolled around, and Severus was prepared. He had confidence that his plan to get Peta-Lorrum to leave him alone would work. 

“Salutations, Professor Snape!” 

Alright, time to test out his master plan. Without acknowledging the girl’s presence, Severus looked up from his desk at Granger, who was accompanying the Crimson Terror. “Granger: Five points from Gryffindor.” 

Peta-Lorrum actually looked confused by his new tactics, but it wasn’t _her_ immediate reaction he needed; it was _Granger’s_. She looked devastated, as she, being a model student, never did anything wrong. Adding to the effect was Lucius Jr. snickering in the back. 

“What for?!” demanded Weasley. 

Severus looked directly at the boy. “Are you questioning me?” 

“How is that–” Weasley began, but Peta-Lorrum put her hand over his mouth. 

“It’s alright,” she said without taking her eyes off of Severus. 

Severus knew that Peta-Lorrum was smart. Indeed, she picked up on it immediately and took her seat. She was quiet for the rest of the class. It was the best class ever. 

Severus had seen it before when Little Lucius was harassing Granger. Peta-Lorrum was always right there, ready to step in to defend her friends. She was loyal like a Hufflepuff, but with the courage and arrogance of a Gryffindor. 

Unfortunately for Severus, the girl approached him after class. 

“What?” he asked in his monotone voice. 

“My best friend back home is called ‘Shadow Black’,” Peta-Lorrum said. “She looks and acts a lot like you, so I know why you’re punishing Hermione for what I do. You don’t trust me, so you assume that I’ve got an ulterior motive for being nice to you. You also don’t like when people bother you. I’m not going to stop trying to be your friend, but I _will_ ease up so long as you ease up on Hermione, Sally-Anne, and Harry.” She counted off on her fingers. “Yeah, just them. Ronald’s an irrelevant NPC, so do as you will.” 

“This _isn’t_ a negotiation, Peta-Lorrum.” 

“I know. This is me informing you of the terms of my surrender. I gave you that pendant as a sort of peace offering, but I can see you still don’t trust me.” She unfastened the clasp that held her cloak together. Beneath it were a few strings that served as additional support. 

“This is Reflectesalon,” Peta-Lorrum said, holding up the clasp. “He was my mother’s clasp, and he’s all I’ve got left of her. He is my most prized possession.” She placed the reflective clasp on his desk. “I’ll make you a deal: Try the pendant I gave you, and until you are confident that all it’s doing is giving you a bonus to Intimidation Checks, you hold onto Reflectesalon.” 

When Shadow had been cast out by the Exalted, she went straight to Rose. Rose opened her home to Shadow, gave her hot cocoa, and told the Halfling about her parents, something she had avoided doing up until that point. Realizing just how much faith Rose had put in her, the Halfling had responded in kind. 

Rose knew that she would need to make some sort of gesture to prove that she could be trusted. She also knew it would take more than this to convince Professor Snape, but it was a start. 

“Have a good day, Professor,” she said, and left the classroom. 

Severus looked down at the clasp on his desk. For all he knew, this was a small trinket she had picked up at a market somewhere, but there was something in her eyes that said differently. 

_Reflectesalon! He’s my imaginary friend!_

Severus had heard Peta-Lorrum say this on several occasions, even when she shouldn’t have known that he was within earshot. If she was to be believed, then it was this clasp that she considered her imaginary friend. 

Severus reached into his desk drawer and pulled out the box in which the pendant still remained. He fastened it around his neck, and looked up as the Weasley Twins entered his classroom for detention. 

In most detentions with Severus, the Destructive Duo would leave a trap for him to find after cleaning cauldrons. If Peta-Lorrum was correct, then the pendant had the potential to make the boys too afraid of Severus to try anything. 

Of course, she could have simply enchanted the pendant to explode after being worn for some amount of time. Months, perhaps, or maybe even years. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had tried to play a trick on Severus, and it wouldn’t be the last. 

There were plenty of ways that this could go wrong, but with any luck, this could make this detention bearable. 

* * *

“ _You!_ ” 

Rose looked up from her book as the Twins approached her during lunch. 

“Don’t deny it!” shouted Fred. 

“It’s got _your_ fingerprints all over it!” added George. 

“What did I do?” she asked. 

“Professor Snape!” they shouted together. 

Hermione looked up in shock. This couldn’t be happening. It must be a sign of the apocalypse. They were all doomed! It was the end of days! Armageddon! There was nothing left now but to seek out shelter and wait for the end to come! 

The Weasley Twins had just referred to the Potions Master as _Professor_ Snape. 

Rose simply grinned. 

“Not even _McGonagall_ is that terrifying,” George said. 

“It’s like he’s been practicing the entire winter to scare people,” Fred added. 

“But then we realized–” 

“–You told us not to use the hats–” 

“–So _you_ must have known about this!” 

“You’re just being paranoid,” Rose replied. 

“He didn’t sheem sharier than usuah in cwash today,” Ron said with a mouthful of food. 

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to talk with food in your mouth, Weasley?” a monotone voice said from behind them. 

Rose grinned and turned to face Professor Snape. 

“Salutations, Professor Snape!” 

“Peta-Lorrum,” he replied. From his robes, he produced a small clasp. “I believe this ridiculous trinket belongs to you. _Don’t_ leave your jewelry in my classroom again. Next time, I may not be in such a good mood.” 

He handed Reflectesalon back to her. 

“Won’t happen again, Sir,” she replied, fastening Reflectesalon back onto her cloak. 

“It _was_ you!” exclaimed the Twins. 

Professor Snape shot them a glare that made the boys shrink in their seats. 

Hermione immediately regretted allowing them on either side of her. Not only did she have the Twins flanking her, but she was also directly in the line of fire, and the boys were right; Professor Snape _was_ more intimidating than usual. Something about his glare made her want to run away and hide. Hermione wasn’t fond of receiving direct, negative attention from a teacher in an ordinary situation, but this was so much worse. 

The Potions Master walked off, his cloak billowing behind him. 

The Twins turned back to Rose. 

“That wasn’t even the worst thing that happened today,” Fred said. 

“McGonagall knew about the hats!” exclaimed George. 

“ _And_ she could tell us apart!” 

“She couldn’t do that before!” 

“Why do you assume it’s _my_ fault?” Rose asked. 

“You told her about them, didn’t you?!” Fred exclaimed. 

“How do you know Percy didn’t?” Sally-Anne asked. “Don’t prefects report directly to their head of house?” 

“Well, yes,” George said. 

“And Rose said you were harassing him with them,” Hermione added. “So it would make sense that he would try to warn her.” 

“Let’s say our dear brother _did_ inform McGonagall about the hats,” Fred began. 

“How did she tell us apart?” George finished. 

“You two only _look_ identical,” Rose said. “You don’t _act_ identical. She’s been teaching here for some thirty years, right? She’s been your head of house for two years already, and given the difficulty you give _everyone_ here, she’s probably been putting actual effort into telling the difference between the two of you.” 

“Yeah!” Ron added, wanting to be a part of the conversation. “What she said!” 

“Thank you, Ronald,” Rose said cheerfully. 

Ron was almost positive that she was being honestly cheerful this time, and not about to encase him in amber again. He confirmed this by glancing at Harry, who wasn’t giving him a look of warning. Ron decided that that was a good sign. 

Both Twins glared at Rose suspiciously, then began to eat their lunch. 

<Rose, please don’t gamble with me again,> Reflectesalon requested. 

<Don’t worry, I won’t,> Rose replied. <Also, ’gamble’ implies that there was a possibility that I’d lose. That turned out better than I expected, actually.>

<Regardless, please don’t do that again without at least notifying me beforehand.>

<I’m sorry, Ref. I knew he’d give you back eventually, and I wouldn’t risk losing _you_ nor the benefits that you provide without a fallback plan. >

<What _was_ your fallback plan, Rose? >

<Taking you back myself, and deciding that I could live without Professor Snape’s approval.>

With that, Rose returned to reading her new book as the Twins continued to eye her suspiciously. 

* * *

The next morning, the five first-years set out to visit Hagrid. Being winter, it was cold outside, and there was a fresh coat of snow on the ground. 

It didn’t surprise anyone that Rose wasn’t bothered at all by the cold. She was still wearing her dress and stockings, which wouldn’t have been comfortable to _anyone_ else. 

The other four Gryffindors were wearing their robes, which, while the wool was uncomfortable in the fall, was perfect for the winter. They also each wore long, red and gold scarfs. 

They reached Hagrid’s Hut, and Harry knocked on the door. 

The large groundskeeper opened the door. 

“Ah, ‘arry! Come in! I just put the kettle on!” 

Four of the five students sat down around the table in Hagrid’s small hut. Harry and Sally-Anne sat on either side of the groundskeeper, whose back was to his fire. He offered tea to each student, which all but one of them accepted. 

Rose, having politely declined the tea, was sitting in the corner to Mr. Hagrid’s left. Hermione noticed that the girl had been particular about where she sat. Rose had a direct, unblocked line to where _Mr. Hagrid_ was sitting. 

“So what brings yer ‘round here?” Hagrid asked. 

“We were… er,” Harry stammered. 

“We wanted to know about the dog on the third floor,” Sally-Anne said without so much as batting an eyelash. 

Harry glanced over at his friend. Since she had got back, Harry had noticed that Sally-Anne was speaking out more than she had in the fall. He also noticed that she was constantly wearing a green ribbon in her hair. 

Hagrid glared at Sally-Anne. “You kids should be stayin’ outta that! That’s forbidden.” 

“You’re the one who put Fluffy there,” Rose said simply. “Why?” 

<To keep the Package safe,> Reflectesalon informed her. 

“That’s none of–” 

“What’s the Package?” she asked. 

<How does she know about that?> Reflectesalon relayed. 

Rubeus stared at the crimson-haired girl. “Who told yer ‘bout that?” he asked in a low voice. 

Rose had to actually think about that one. If she told Mr. Hagrid that _he_ had, then he would either shut out Reflectesalon or kick them out to stop her clasp from reading the groundskeeper’s mind. But Alice had taught Rose to never be specific when telling the truth, and just let other people reach conclusions on their own. 

“No one,” Rose replied. “I don’t know what it means, but I know that Fluffy’s protecting it.” 

<That’s between Professor Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel.>

“Yer shouldn’t be worryin’ ‘bout that,” Mr. Hagrid said. “It’s safe, that’s all yer need ta know.” 

The first-years nodded, and Rose jotted down the name “Nicholas Flamel”. 

“That’s what we thought,” Hermione said, indicating herself and Sally-Anne. 

“So long as it can’t just be put to sleep by playing a harp or something,” Sally-Anne joked. 

Sally-Anne had honestly meant it to be a joke, but Mr. Hagrid didn’t treat it as one. 

<How does she know that music will put Fluffy to sleep?!>

The large man jumped out of his seat and grabbed Sally-Anne’s arms. 

“Who told yer that?!” he shouted. “No one but Professor Dumbledore and me knows that!” 

Rubeus felt a sudden pain in his right arm. If he hadn’t known better, the half-giant would’ve thought that a constrictor snake had latched onto his arm and was threatening to crush his bones. 

He looked down and saw Rose’s gloved hand around his arm. Her face was serious, almost menacing. Rubeus wasn’t sure how she had gotten over to him so fast. She had been sitting in the corner until he had gotten up, but she was suddenly _right there_. 

Harry noticed that there were rose petals fluttering to the ground in the corner where Rose had been sitting just a moment ago. 

“Let go of her, Mr. Hagrid,” she ordered. 

Rubeus released the terrified Gryffindor and eased back into his chair. 

“I just… I just thought,” Sally-Anne stammered. “F-fluffy’s like the Cerberus that g-guarded the gates of the Underworld in Greek Mythology. O-orpheus… he played his harp and put it to sleep.” 

“It sounds like music will put Fluffy to sleep,” Rose said, still eyeing Mr. Hagrid, who returned the look. “Don’t worry, Mr. Hagrid,” she said, grinning. “We won’t tell anyone!” 

The rest of the morning was spent with each of them talking about classes, or their respective winter breaks. Sally-Anne was far less talkative than she had been before, even after Hagrid apologized for reacting the way he did. 

Hermione noticed that Rose was sitting in the corner drawing quietly. She had looked at Rose’s drawings several times before, and like everything else (except apparently chess), drawing came naturally to the crimson-haired girl. Hermione had never asked what exactly it was that Rose was drawing, but it usually varied between different creatures or people. Hermione had seen Rose draw unicorns, but those were the most normal of anything Rose had ever drawn. Among other drawings, Hermione had seen two different men with gray skin and pointed ears; a man (or possibly woman) in a black cloak and a black mask; a woman in green clothing and dark orange hair with golden angel wings; a man covered in scales with wings; and a woman with pink pigtails and a battleaxe. 

Glancing over, Hermione saw Rose drawing two new people. One was a woman with lovely dark hair. It looked silky, and disappeared past the woman’s shoulders. The other person was a man with dark orange, almost red, wavy hair. Rose was still coloring the rest of them, but both people had warm smiles on their faces. 

It occurred to Hermione who those people probably were. She got up from her chair and quietly walked over to where Rose was sitting. 

“Are those your parents?” Hermione asked. 

“Yeah,” Rose said. 

“Who are the other people you draw?” 

“My friends and family.” 

“Really?” 

Rose flipped through her sketchbook. She stopped on one of the men with pointed ears. “That’s Sk’lar.” She flipped to the next page, which had the masked person. “That’s Shadow.” 

Rose continued flipping through her book, identifying each of her drawings. Her sister Alice was the one with pink hair, and her uncle was the other one with pointed ears. The woman with red hair was Carolina, and the man with scales was Bowie. Rose reminded Hermione who these people were while the other students talked with Hagrid. 

Around lunch time, the Gryffindors bid farewell to Hagrid and started back towards the castle. 

“What was the point of that again?” asked Ron. 

“Nicholas Flamel,” Rose said. “Ref told me that Mr. Hagrid was thinking that the Package is between Professor Dumbledore and someone called Nicholas Flamel. I’m going to go through the Library to see if I can find that name.” 

“I can’t help,” Hermione said. “I’ve got Arithmancy lessons this afternoon.” 

“I still don’t see why you’d want to do the extra work,” Ron said. 

“Think of it this way,” Sally-Anne said. “It’d be like having a class where you just played chess, _all the time_. That’s what Arithmancy’s like for Hermione.” 

“That’s… a brilliant way of putting it,” Hermione said. 

Rose grinned and raised her hand beside Sally-Anne. “Diplomacy Check!” 

Sally-Anne wasn’t sure what the pale girl meant, but she gladly accepted the high-five nonetheless. 

* * *

**Note:** For reference, I’d put Severus’s Intimidation modifier at +6. Therefore, with the pendant, he would become almost three times as terrifying as he was before. 


	19. Mathematics Rules!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which maths is done, and Hermione learns one of the many secrets of Rose's success.

**Disclaimer** Harry Potter - J.K. Rowling = 0, for Harry Potter is nothing without J.K. Rowling. 

**Note:** Most students in the Arithmancy classes are pulled from _The Arithmancer_. 

* * *

That afternoon, Hermione nervously made her way to Professor Vector’s office. Rose was accompanying her, as per her parents’ instructions that she not be alone. 

Hermione kept trying to reassure herself that she had nothing to fear, but all she could think was that if she made a mess of this, then she blew her only chance at testing into Arithmancy next year. 

Along with her wand, Hermione was carrying a notebook full of notes she had taken over the break. Before she had left, Professor Vector had lent her a spare Arithmancy textbook for Hermione to read while she was away from the castle. Using her bracelet, she had read it several times and taken thorough notes. In her other arm, Hermione carried the textbook itself. 

“You know, if you want, I can just make you a sack to carry your things,” Rose said. 

“I’m fine,” Hermione replied. “You’ve given me enough already.” 

“So? WBL is just a guideline! No one _actually_ listens to it!” 

“What’s WBL?” 

“Wealth by Level.” 

“What’s that mean?” 

“It’s the wealth that a single character is expected to have once obtaining a given level. Some adventurers end up higher, some end up lower. I hear the Door Thieves cracked because they were always so far below it.” 

“Do I want to know?” 

“The Door Thieves? They’re wonderful! They go around stealing random doors, cackling like lunatics!” 

Hermione blinked a few times, furled her brow, and widened her eyes. “What?! _Why?!_ ” 

“Like I said, they went bananas,” Rose replied. She tilted her head to the side and gazed off into space. “I like bananas.” 

Hermione opened her mouth to complain, but then realized that the “Door Thieves” either weren’t real or weren’t her problem. Either way, she didn’t have to care. 

“Me too, Rose,” she replied. 

“Just use the _seashell_ when you’re done,” Rose told her when they reached the Professor Vector’s office. “I’ll be in the library researching Nicholas Flamel if you need anything.” 

“Thanks, Rose,” Hermione replied, and entered the room. 

She found Professor Vector sitting at her desk, looking over some papers. She looked up as Hermione entered her office. 

“Good afternoon, Ms. Granger,” Professor Vector greeted her. She motioned to the chair in front of her. “Please, have a seat.” 

Hermione nervously took her seat, still holding both her notebook and the Arithmancy textbook that Professor Vector had given her at the end of last term. 

“How far are you in the textbook?” she asked the young Gryffindor, indicating the book in the girl’s hand. 

“I finished it, Ma’am,” she replied. 

“Well, that makes this a little easier. Did you have any questions?” 

“A few,” Hermione replied, pulling out her notebook. “But many…” Hermione hesitated for a moment, not wanting to admit that she didn’t know something. “Many of them might just be me misunderstanding calculus.” 

Septima did a double-take. She couldn’t have heard that correctly. This girl was 11 for Merlin’s sake! She shouldn’t even _know_ the term calculus! “You’ve learned calculus?” 

Hermione nodded. “My parents know this college professor, and he gives me some of his older textbooks. I spent a lot of my break reading all the books I could, since Rose gave me this bracelet that lets me read books quickly.” 

“Define ‘quickly’.” 

“I can just touch a book, say… ‘boop’ (Hermione groaned. Why did Rose have to pick such ridiculous command words?), and it’s as if I had read it once.” 

“That’s… interesting. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard of a spell like that. There are charms to _copy_ text, but none to speed read a textbook. Did she say how it works?” 

“No, she just calls it _scholar’s touch_ ,” Hermione replied. 

Hermione knew that her crimson-haired friend was a bit different, and she had magic of which _Hermione_ hadn’t heard, but she assumed that it was just a kind of magic that they hadn’t learned yet. Hermione didn’t realize that it was actually _unheard of_. 

“Hmm,” Professor Vector hmm’d. “Did she say anything more about it?” 

“Not really, although it gave me a headache at first,” Hermione admitted. “I used it to read all my maths books, my Arithmancy book, and any other books I could find. Also… if you don’t mind, I’d rather not discuss Rose.” 

Professor Vector furled her brow. “Isn’t she your friend?” 

“She is, but… Everything just comes so easily to her!” Hermione blurted. With the dam finally broken, the water came gushing out. “It seems like everyone always talks about her, and she’s perfect at everything she does, and I’ve always been the clever one, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t match her level!” 

Hermione’s face began to turn red. She was shocked that she had finally expressed that out loud. Ever since the Arithmancy seminar in the fall, she had been harboring resentment towards Rose for being so much better than her at maths. Up until then, Hermione had kept her spirits high by telling herself that even if Rose was better than her at everything else, Hermione could still outdo her in maths. It had always been Hermione’s favorite subject in school, but finding out that Rose could do complicated calculations in a matter of seconds had been devastating. 

“Hermione, I had a student a while back when I had just started teaching called Lily Evans. She was in Gryffindor, and exceptionally talented. She remains one of my top students, even now, and while she was here, she was made Head Girl in her seventh year.” 

Hermione nodded her understanding. 

“I always assumed that everything was fine with her, since she came to class everyday looking cheerful and eager to learn. I later found out that she had all but lost touch with her family while she was here, as the First Wizarding War had just begun, and she was a Muggle-born. Ms. Evans felt that she couldn’t possibly explain to them what was happening in our world. She was also being harassed by an _awful_ group of Gryffindor boys, and her best friend, one of the Slytherins, had completely stopped talking to her after they had a falling out.” 

“That’s awful!” Hermione exclaimed. 

“Yes, but still, there she was, smiling away as if nothing had happened. My point, Hermione, is that you can’t always tell by looking at someone how they’re doing. Ms. Peta-Lorrum could be working just as hard as you, or could have already done the hard work that you’re now doing. Considering that she was orphaned at the age of nine, and has apparently been living on her own thus far, I can imagine that she’s got plenty of troubles of her own.” 

Hermione nodded. Truth be told, she was a little worried about ending up like this Lily girl. She was harassed by a group of Slytherins on a fairly regular basis, and she had found it difficult to explain to her parents about the troll and dragon. She hadn’t told them about Professor Quirrell trying to kill Harry, assuming that it was Professor Quirrell, and she still wasn’t sure about that. What would happen if she lost touch with them completely? She couldn’t bear the thought of not talking with her family. 

On the bright side, Hermione was pretty sure that she had some good friends here. She was worried about getting angry at Rose, but she knew from watching Professor Snape that it would take more than getting angry at the pale girl to drive her away. 

“And besides, you’ve got two things that Ms. Peta-Lorrum lacks.” 

“What’s that?” 

“The first is discipline. Not only are you leaps and bounds ahead of Ms. Peta-Lorrum, but you’ve got far more discipline than almost any other student your age, which is quite impressive on its own.” 

“Thank you,” Hermione said. Most of the older students had warned her that Professor Vector was strict, nearly as much so as Professor McGonagall, but Hermione was finding that the older witch was kind to her. “What’s the second?” 

“You’re here, aren’t you? Of the hundreds of students to pass through the castle, you are one of the few that I thought had the talent necessary to even consider testing in early.” 

“You offered it to Rose, too.” 

“I was bluffing,” Professor Vector replied, traces of a smile coming across her face. “I was assuming that your friends, being Gryffindors, wouldn’t want the extra work.” 

“Ronald still can’t understand why I’d want to do more work than I’ve got,” Hermione muttered. 

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum may be talented, but I saw passion in you, Hermione. Maths isn’t just something at which you excel, it’s something you love. I haven’t seen someone so enthusiastic about Arithmancy in many years.” 

Hermione smiled. “Thank you, Professor.” 

As the lesson continued, Septima continued to be astounded by the first-year’s understanding of Arithmancy. Not only did she reference several sections of the book, reciting a few of them from the top of her head, she was doing computations much faster than she had a few months ago during the seminar. 

“I’ve been working on memorizing my multiplication tables since the start of winter break,” Hermione explained when Professor Vector asked her about it. 

“And integrals, apparently,” the Arithmancy Professor remarked. “I think you know these better than some of my third-year students.” 

Something occurred to the older witch. It was a little unorthodox, not to mention premature, but given the girl’s current progress, Septima had confidence that it was a good decision. It was one of those decisions that she was certain she’d look back upon and be glad that she’d made it. 

“Hermione, how would you like to sit in on my third-year Arithmancy class Monday afternoon?” 

“Erm… I’ve got Herbology right after lunch.” 

“I’m sure if I ask Pomona, she won’t mind if you miss just the one class, and your friends can inform you of whatever you miss.” 

“Rose does take an awful lot of notes,” Hermione said. 

Hermione knew that Rose kept her wand in her glove, as she had mentioned that before. What Hermione _didn’t_ know was what was stored in the _other_ glove, although she suspected that it was that weapon her pale friend had used to kill a dragon on Hallowe’en. If that was the case, then Hermione had no clue where the girl kept that notebook of hers. It was as if it just popped into existence when Rose needed it and vanished when she didn’t. 

“I’d love to, so long as it’s alright with Professor Sprout.” 

“I doubt it will be a problem,” Professor Vector replied. “Pomona’s quite understanding. I’ll talk with her tonight about it.” 

“Thank you, Professor,” Hermione said, smiling. “Thank you so much.” 

“I look forward to seeing you in Arithmancy, Ms. Granger.” 

As she left the class, she took a hold of the _seashell_ , and sent a message to Rose. 

<We’re all finished here.>

“Did you have fun?” 

Hermione jumped as her friend appeared next to her. 

“Everything alright?” Professor Vector called from the classroom. 

“Rose just startled me,” came the reply. 

“Salutations, Professor Vector!” came an additional reply. The crimson-haired girl subsequently poked her head in the door. 

“Good afternoon, Ms. Peta-Lorrum,” Professor Vector said politely. 

“I’ll see you Monday, Professor,” Hermione called as the two girls left Professor Vector’s office. 

“So, how’d your lesson go?” Rose asked. 

“It went great!” Hermione exclaimed. “She’s even invited me to sit in on her class on Monday. Which reminds me, would you mind walking me there? I know it’s a long way from the Arithmancy classroom to the greenhouses, but–” 

“No problem!” exclaimed Rose. “I can just _dim door_!” 

“That’s what I thought,” Hermione said. 

_Dim door_ , which Hermione had learned was short for _dimension door_ , was Rose’s transportation spell of choice. As far as Hermione could tell, the spell could transport Rose to any point on the grounds. Hermione had heard of apparition, which was similar to what Rose did, but it didn’t work inside the castle. How Rose managed to get around that was beyond Hermione. 

“Did you find anything in the library?” Hermione asked. 

“No, Madame Pince made me leave,” Rose pouted. “I don’t think she likes it when I send a bunch of _prying eyes_ around the library.” 

Hermione nodded. As much as she loved the library, the _Librarian_ scared her. Not only was Madame Pince was strict, she didn’t seem to like people actually _using_ her library. It seemed like an odd trait for a librarian to possess, but it certainly wouldn’t be the first odd thing at Hogwarts. 

Not to mention Rose’s tendency to get on peoples’ nerves without trying. 

As they walked off, Hermione realized that that was the second time she had heard about Lily Evans. Professor McGonagall had mentioned something about her back in October. 

“Hey, Rose?” 

“Yeah, Hermione?” 

“Have you ever heard of a girl called ‘Lily Evans’?” 

“I think Professor McGonagall mentioned her.” 

“Yeah, she did. I was just asking because Professor Vector mentioned her too.” 

Rose pulled out her notebook and wrote down “Lily Evans”. “Thanks for letting me know, Hermione. Any character mentioned more than once is probably important.” 

“You’re welcome, Rose.” 

* * *

Rose watched as Hermione paced back and forth across the Room of Requirement. It was early Monday morning, so early in fact that the sun wasn’t up yet. Hermione had been so stressed out that she couldn’t lie still in her bed after she had woken up. 

Rose, being a responsible and caring friend, had suggested that they go hang out in the Room of Requirement. Because she thought her friend could use additional support, she had set it to become her crafting room so Inar could keep them company. 

“Just to recap,” the crimson-haired girl said. “Professor Vector is letting you sit in on her third-year Arithmancy class this afternoon, and you feel like you’re going to make a fool of yourself.” 

“That about sums it up, yeah,” Hermione said frantically. 

“Okay,” Rose said, getting up. _Serendipity_ appeared in her hand. “I can fix that.” 

“I don’t think any of your tricks are going to help.” 

“Of course they will!” Rose cried defensively. “I can fix anything!” 

_Serendipity_ vanished into Rose’s glove as an idea popped into her head. 

“You know what always calms me down?” Rose asked. 

“I’m not sure I want to know,” Hermione muttered. 

“Dancing,” Rose said, extending her hand to Hermione. 

Hermione looked from Rose to the girl’s hand, and back again. “Seriously?” 

“Yup!” Rose exclaimed, cheerful as ever. “My parents taught me how to dance, and it reminds me that they’re always watching over me. Carolina says it keeps my mind and body focused on one nondestructive task so I can’t think about whatever it is that’s bothering me!” 

Hermione considered this for a moment, taking note of the word “nondestructive”, then decided she might as well. Hermione hesitantly took Rose’s hand, and the crimson-haired girl began to lead her bushy-haired friend in a waltz. 

“Wow,” Hermione said. “I’m not sure why, but I wouldn’t think that you’d be a dancer.” 

“Loved it since I was a little girl,” Rose replied. “ _Intradora_.” 

“What’s that mean?” 

“It’s Illumian for intelligence. _Intradora_.” 

Hermione began to feel funny. Her head was starting to tingle. The feeling was familiar somehow. 

“ _Intradora_.” 

Hermione remembered when she had felt this way. It was when she had first attached the hair clip to her hair, or when Rose had used that spell back in December. 

“Rose, what are you doing?” 

“Dancing!” 

“No, every time you say ‘ _Intradora_ ’, my head tingles.” 

“Oh,” Rose replied. “I’m using _Serendipity_ to grant you an inherent bonus to your Intelligence. _Intradora_.” 

“What does that mean?” Hermione was starting to feel dizzy. It didn’t help that she was moving around while this was going on. 

“Feeling faint?” 

“Yeah; how’d you know?” 

“It’s a side effect of a sudden increase in Intelligence,” Rose replied. “Just focus on me and where your feet are supposed to move next.” 

“I’m not even sure how I know what to do,” Hermione said. 

“You’ve probably seen it once or twice,” Rose said. “Information doesn’t leave the brain, it just becomes harder to get at, and I’ve just made it easier for you to recall it.” 

Hermione’s head was starting to feel better as she adjusted to her now increased intellect. It still hurt a little as information flowed through her mind seamlessly. 

“I used _wish_ to give you a +4 inherent bonus to Intelligence. It means that you are now permanently smarter, which will make it easier for you to not make a fool of yourself in Arithmancy today.” 

“How is it scaled? What does +4 mean?” 

“If I had to take a guess, I’d say you started this year with about a 14 in Intelligence. That’s a +2 modifier. On average, a Human has a 10, which is +0. With the hair clip, your score was increased to a 16, giving you a +3 modifier. I just increased your score to a 20, giving you a +5 modifier.” 

Hermione thought about that for a second, then nodded. “I guess that makes sense.” Many ideas occurred to Hermione, although one in particular held her attention. 

_Ms. Peta-Lorrum could be working just as hard as you, or could have already done the hard work that you’re now doing._

“Is this what it’s like for you all the time?” 

“I’ve got a 40 in Intelligence,” Rose replied. “Artificers need it for our infusions, so it determines how often I can use _Serendipity_. At Character Creation, I put an 18 into Intelligence. I get +10 from my circlet, +5 inherent, +5 from levels, and +2 from _Greater Visage of the Deity_.” 

The numbers worked themselves out in Hermione’s head with almost no effort on her part. She began the computation with what she knew: 10 was +0, 14 was + 2, and 20 was +5. That meant the modifier increased every two steps, starting from ten. Rose had a 40, which meant it would be (40 - 10) ÷ 2, or 15. 

“So you’re three times as smart as me,” Hermione said, astounded by how effortlessly her mind had just run the computation. “If the modifier is the important part, then you’ve got a +15, and I’ve got a +5.” 

Hermione typically took everything Rose said with a grain of salt, but Rose had just used magic to make Hermione cleverer. She wasn’t sure if, or when, it would wear off, but for the moment, it had actually worked. Hermione was able to think faster, and ideas of which she wouldn’t have otherwise thought were popping into her head. She realized that Rose had said “permanently”, so it probably _wouldn’t_ be wearing off. 

“Try not to think anything of it,” Rose said. “My circlet is a workaround, or in some circles, a cheap trick, to get around the inability to craft anything with higher than a +6 enhancement bonus. The standard technique for crafting an item with an enhancement bonus becomes unstable if you try to craft anything above a +6. It _might_ work, but it will most likely collapse if you try.” 

“With you so far,” Hermione said. 

“To get around this, I convinced my brother to research the spell _divine agility_ , which gives the target a +10 enhancement bonus to Dexterity. He created _divine enlightenment_ , which gives a +10 enhancement bonus to Intelligence. It costs about twice as much to enchant an item with it continuously rather than using the standard method, but as previously stated, the standard method doesn’t work for that high of a bonus.” 

“Makes sense.” 

“I’m also level 20, which is the absolute maximum of the official scale set forth by the Personnel Handling Bureau, or PHB, so I’ve got high scores to begin with. They’re the ones that invented the entire scale I just explained to you. The idea was to standardize equipment and make rating adventurers easier.” Her face lit up. “If you want, I can give you bonuses to your other scores too!” 

“Thank you,” Hermione said, “but not just now.” 

Hermione didn’t even want to think about what would happen if Rose did that. Of course, given her now improved mental capabilities, she was thinking about it anyway. 

As the girls continued dancing, Hermione was finding it easier to concentrate her thoughts. Rose had been right; it was calming her down to dance, thus occupying both her mind and body. 

* * *

With Rose accompanying her, Hermione made her way to Classroom 7A later that day and took a seat in the front of the class. She was 20 minutes early, and there was no sign of Professor Vector yet, so she sat down and began to go over her notes one more time. Not that she needed to, of course, as she had already memorized them all. Despite the feeling of dizziness she had had all day, Hermione was feeling wonderful. In Transfigurations class that morning she had managed to use _Avifors_ to turn the block of wood they had received into an entire flock of birds on her first try, receiving 10 house points for her work. Ron had glared at her, but Rose and Sally-Anne had both complemented her, not to mention the look of pride that Professor McGonagall had given her. 

Rose’s spell had worked, and it hadn’t worn off after a few minutes like the last one. As the day progressed, Hermione remembered more information from books she had read over the break. She could recall nearly all the information from her calculus book, and she could recite entire chapters out of her Arithmancy book. Maybe Rose was right; maybe she _could_ fix anything. 

“Excuse me?” 

She looked behind her and saw a boy walking in the classroom. He wore a Hufflepuff crest on his robes, and reminded Hermione a little of Percy, in that he was in the 99th percentile among the boys in the school in terms of how well kept he was. He had brown hair, slightly darker than her own, and a kind smile. Everything about him was neat and tidy, but it was different to how Percy always looked. Percy walked around with an air of arrogance, while this boy had a more kindly manner. 

“I hate to bother you,” the boy said politely, “but we’ve got class in here soon. If you need a classroom, I think 7C is unused this time of day.” 

“I’m…” Hermione hesitated, a little nervous around the older student. 

_It’s alright, Hermione, they’re students too. They’re only two years older than you. There’s nothing to be worried about._

“I’m here for Arithmancy.” 

“I’m sorry?” the boy asked. 

“Professor Vector invited me to sit in on the class today.” 

“Oh,” the boy replied. 

He looked shocked at first, but it faded quickly. He sat down next to her and extended his hand. 

“I’m Cedric, by the way. Cedric Diggory.” 

“Hermione Granger,” Hermione replied, shaking his hand. “I’m a first-year.” 

“Wow,” Cedric replied. “I didn’t think Professor Vector let _anyone_ in early, especially not _two years_ early.” 

“Oh no, I’m not in the class. I’ve been taking an independent study with her this term, and she wanted me to sit in on an actual class.” 

“Still, you must be something special for her to let you sit in on a class.” 

“I’m–” 

“Ms. Granger, good to see you were able to make it,” Professor Vector said as she entered the room. “And Mr. Diggory has naturally introduced himself already.” 

“Good afternoon, Professor,” Cedric said. “How was your weekend?” 

“Filled with excitement and maths, just the way I like it,” the professor replied. She spread out some papers on her desk, and began to write a problem on the chalkboard as more students filed in. 

“Good afternoon, class,” Professor Vector said once the rest of the class arrived. “As many of you have noticed, we have a student sitting in on our lecture today. Everyone, this is Hermione Granger. She’s currently undertaking an independent study with me, and I have asked her to sit in on our class.” 

As Professor Vector began her lecture, Hermione regretted her position in the front of the classroom. She hadn’t thought about it when she had taken her seat, instead acting on instinct and taking a seat in the first row. Now she heard whispering behind her, and began to lose confidence in her decision to sit in on class. There she was, alone with a bunch of third-year students, and attention had already been drawn to her. 

Despite her initially not wanting her friend to be there, Hermione now found herself wishing that Rose were there with her. She was no longer worried about Rose being more clever than her, because Professor Vector had been right; Rose had already done all the work with magic, and now it was Hermione’s turn to excel. 

Rose had a tendency to draw attention to herself, which meant it was off other people. Hermione found herself wondering if that was part of the reason that Harry hung out with them. After all, so long as he was around Rose, people paid less attention to him, which seemed to make him happier. 

Professor Vector began the lecture, which, as Hermione had been forewarned, focused on the study of polynomials. 

“To start us off, can anyone tell me what a polynomial is?” Professor Vector asked. 

Hermione flinched, nearly raising her hand, but reminded herself not to speak up. She was just here to watch, and… wait, why _was_ she there, exactly? What purpose did her being there serve? Was it just to experience a lecture? If she sat there like a wallflower, what did she gain? 

Hermione didn’t really _want_ to speak up, but she also didn’t want to waste Professor Vector’s time. 

While Hermione was preoccupied with questioning her purpose in the classroom, another student had raised her hand. 

“Ms. Gamp, no doubt you’ve got an answer for us.” 

“ _A polynomial is an expression consisting of variables and coefficients, that involves only the operations of addition, subtraction, multiplication, and non-negative integer exponents._ ” 

“Well done, Ms. Gamp.” 

Hermione had heard that name before. It took her a second to remember, but then she realized: Gamp’s Law of Elemental Transfiguration. Hermione didn’t realize that a member of the Gamp family was in Hogwarts, much less the third-year Arithmancy class. 

Hermione’s hand slipped inside her pocket, and she grasped the blue seashell that never left her person. 

<Rose, there’s a Ravenclaw student with the surname ’Gamp’. Do you know her first name?>

There was a pause, during which Hermione swore she heard pages turning, then, <Rebecca.>

Hermione didn’t bother asking how Rose knew the girl’s first name; most likely, she had heard it by chance, or Reflectesalon had gleamed it from someone’s mind. 

<Thank you.>

Rebecca Gamp. It was good to know her name. Maybe they could be friends. 

“Now, one of the important parts about polynomials is finding their roots, that is, the solutions of the polynomial when set to zero.” Professor Vector wrote “x2 \- x - 20 = 0” on the board, and turned to face the class. “Ms. Granger, why don’t you give this a shot?” 

Hermione paled. Now not only was she being given a problem, it was presumably one that they hadn’t worked on yet. 

“Roots at negative four and five, Ma’am.” 

That was a mistake. Even _Professor Vector_ looked astounded at how fast she had done that. Several of the students behind her started whispering to themselves, and shortly after that, Cedric raised her hand. 

_Oh no_ , Hermione thought, shrinking a little in her seat. 

“Yes, Mr. Diggory?” 

“I think it’s going to be hard to hear you with everyone else talking.” 

This time, it was Hermione’s turn to stare at someone in astonishment. She hadn’t been expecting any of the other students to actually take it easy on her, much less _stand up_ for her. 

“Quite right, Mr. Diggory,” Professor Vector said, glaring at the other students. 

The whispering faded, and Hermione realized that she was still staring at Cedric. She quickly turned her head down, her face turning red. 

“Thanks,” she whispered. 

“Don’t mention it,” he replied. “Hufflepuffs stand up for everyone, not just each other.” 

“Ms. Granger, would you please walk us through how you did that?” Professor Vector requested. 

“It’s the quadratic formula,” Hermione explained. “X equals the opposite of B, plus or minus the square root of B squared minus 4AC, all over 2A, where, in this case, A is 1, B is -1, and C is -20. After that, you just have to solve it.” 

“Excellent,” Professor Vector said. She began to write out the formula on the chalkboard. 

“Did you do that in your head?” whispered Cedric. 

“Yeah,” replied Hermione, realizing that she really _had_ done it in her head. The computation had been so seamless that she hardly noticed that she did _anything_. Upon looking at the equation, she had called up the formula, plugged in the variables, and her brain proceeded to solve it practically on its own. 

“Wow. You really are something special.” 

Hermione was thankful that Professor Vector hardly called on her the rest of the class, saving her from having more attention drawn to her. 

After the class was over, Professor Vector asked Hermione to stay after for a few minutes. 

“I take it Ms. Peta-Lorrum has taught you a few of her tricks?” she asked the first-year. 

“Sort of,” Hermione replied evasively. She wasn’t sure if it was alright that she was using magic to make herself smarter. “You were right, Professor. She’s spent a lot of time working on being that clever.” 

“There’s always more to learn, even about people,” Professor Vector agreed. “Well, whatever the case, I’m quite impressed with your performance today. I can safely say at this moment that you should be looking forward to taking Arithmancy next year.” 

Hermione’s eyes grew wide. “Really?” 

“Absolutely,” Professor Vector replied, smiling. “I’ll see you Saturday.” 

Hermione left the room, and was ambushed by Cedric and two of the other students. 

“That was amazing!” a boy called ’Davies’ exclaimed. “How’d you do those problems so fast?!” 

“It’s cos my Hermione’s the smartest in the land!” 

“Ah!” 

The three older students jumped back as Rose appeared, putting her arm around Hermione, who had just about grown accustomed to Rose popping up at random. 

“Hey, Rose, how was Herbology?” 

“Meh. Plants. How was Arithmancy?” 

“Wonderful!” 

Rose beamed. 

“Who are you?” asked Davies. 

Rose turned to face the other students. “Salutations! I’m Rose! Rose Peta-Lorrum!” 

As always when introducing herself, she curtsied. 

“Cedric Diggory,” Cedric said, extending his hand to her. Rose shook it, and turned to the others. 

“Roger Davies,” Davies said, waving casually. 

“Rebecca Gamp.” 

Rose noted that there was a look of slight contempt on Rebecca’s face. Rose knew that look; it was the “You’re threatening my position in class” look. She made a note to watch this Rebecca girl. 

“We’ve all got to get going,” Cedric said. “It was nice meeting you both. Hope to see you soon!” 

“Bye!” Hermione called back as Rose waved. 

Hermione walked quickly back to Gryffindor Tower. Now, she had a lot about which to tell her parents. 

* * *

_Dear Mum and Dad_ , 

_I’m so sorry for not writing you yesterday, but you won’t believe what’s happened! The start of the term has been going alright. I found out that Ron’s really good at chess, and Rose gave Professor Snape an amulet that makes him scarier (I don’t know why)._

_But most importantly is my progress with Arithmancy. On Saturday I had my lesson with Professor Vector (Rose walked me there, don’t worry), and she was impressed by how well I’ve been doing over the winter. She even invited me to sit in on class today!_

_This morning, Rose and I went to the Room of Requirement, since I was really nervous, and Rose was trying to help. Apart from the hair clip, Rose can actually make people smarter with magic! I felt faint at first, sort of like when I attached the clip, but after my head started to clear, I was able to remember random things that I had only ever learned once!_

_Professor Vector was really impressed with how well I did in an actual class. I kept up with her during the lecture, and answered questions that even some of the other students didn’t know. Afterwards, she said she would allow me to test into Arithmancy next year! I can’t wait!_

_Lots of Love_ , 

_Hermione_

* * *

**Note:** The definition of polynomial was pulled from the Wikipedia page on polynomials. 


	20. The Philosopher's Stone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our heroes discover what's really through the trapdoor.

**Disclaimer** The Philosopher’s Stone predates Harry Potter, and thus, unlike Harry Potter, is not owned by J.K. Rowling. 

* * *

January turned into February, which then gave way to March. Classes progressed as usual, and Hermione was allowed to attend a few more Arithmancy lectures. She was enjoying herself and was becoming friends with the other students. Hermione thought even if she wasn’t going to take the class with them next year, it would be nice to have students who had taken the class already and could help her if she needed it. 

Lavender and Parvati had taken a liking to Sally-Anne and her ribbon. They thought it made her look lovely, and Lavender kept wanting to “fix the rest of her.” Sally-Anne wasn’t quite sure how she felt about that, but Parvati usually reigned in her friend before she could get too carried away. 

Hermione and Ron had started playing chess regularly, something for which Harry was grateful, since he didn’t have to be Ron’s opponent anymore. During the chess matches, Harry and Sally-Anne would usually sit quietly and talk amongst themselves. Rose would join them on occasion, but usually vanished to places unknown. 

“Alright, I give up,” Rose said one morning at breakfast. 

“What’s wrong?” asked Sally-Anne. 

“There’s _nothing_ on Nicholas Flamel in the Library. I have read literally _every single book_ in that place, and I haven’t been able to find anything about him.” 

“How can there be nothing on this man in the Library?” Harry asked. 

No one questioned how Rose had read every book. She had been disappearing randomly for the past few months, so she certainly had the time. 

“Dunno,” Rose replied. 

“Maybe he’s obscure, or just a friend of Professor Dumbledore’s,” Hermione suggested. 

“Can’t we just ask Professor Dumbledore?” asked Sally-Anne. 

“Asking an NPC? I don’t know, something about that feels wrong to me.” 

“What if we just say that we’re researching Flamel for a class assignment?” suggested Ron. 

“Without knowing who he is?” Hermione asked. “What if really _is_ just a friend of Professor Dumbledore’s? Then he’d know instantly that we were lying.” 

“Harry, didn’t you say you saw the Package at Gringotts?” Sally-Anne asked, turning towards Harry. “What did it look like?” 

“I don’t know, it was wrapped up.” 

“What shape was it?” Rose asked. 

“Erm…” Harry thought back to the day in Gringotts. “Like a lump of clay or something.” 

“You mean asymmetrical?” Hermione asked. 

“I guess?” 

“Asymmetrical means most likely not man-made,” Hermione said. “Humans have a tendency to prefer symmetrical objects.” 

“Maybe it’s gold!” Ron exclaimed. 

“Why would Professor Dumbledore bring in a giant dog to guard something as common as gold?” Rose asked. 

All four of her friends turned to look at the pale girl. 

“‘Common’?” Hermione asked. 

“Yeah,” Rose said. “I’ve got tons of it.” 

“You do?!” exclaimed Ron. 

Rose reached into the _Picnic Basket_ and produced a few gold coins. “See? I’ve got tons of the stuff. That’s an awful lot of trouble for something so easily obtained otherwise.” 

“She’s right, in a sense,” Hermione said. “It might not be as common as Rose _thinks_ it is, but it is easy enough to obtain gold.” 

“So not gold,” Ron said, a little let down. 

“We aren’t going to take it, regardless,” Hermione said sternly. 

“I _know_ ,” Ron said. “I’m just saying… gold!” 

“Why would Voldemort want gold?” Rose asked. 

Ron yelped at the name. “Don’t say that name!” 

“Why not? It’s just a name. Names don’t hurt people, Ronald; _dragons_ hurt people.” 

“How come you don’t like dragons?” Harry asked. 

“Still, if Voldie’s people are after it, then it must be something they can use to res him.” 

Harry leaned over towards Sally-Anne. “Why doesn’t she like dragons?” 

“She won’t say,” his friend replied. “Hermione and I think her parents were killed by one.” 

Harry nodded. 

“Isn’t Professor Dumbledore teaching an Alchemy seminar this afternoon?” Hermione asked. “Why don’t we go and see if he mentions Flamel?” 

“Weren’t we planning on going to that anyway?” asked Rose, who had been planning on going to the Alchemy seminar anyway. 

“ _You_ were planning on going, Rose,” Ron said. “ _We_ were not.” 

“I wouldn’t mind going,” Sally-Anne said. 

“If Professor Dumbledore’s teaching it, then I’d like to go too,” Harry added. 

“I guess if everyone else is going,” Ron sighed. “I might as well. I just hope we’re not the only ones there.” 

* * *

“I’m glad to see so many new faces in this year’s Alchemy seminar,” Professor Dumbledore said that afternoon. 

The five of them weren’t remotely the only people there. In fact, the classroom was packed. The five of them had relinquished their seats when they saw how many people were there. It had been Sally-Anne’s idea, and Hermione agreed that it’d be polite. Rose and Harry didn’t really care either way, and Ron once again succumbed to peer pressure. 

There were a whole variety of students that most of them didn’t recognize. Percy and Alex were both there, along with the third-year Arithmancy class. 

“As many of you know, Alchemy is the study of the four basic elements and transmutation of objects between the four. From Alchemy, many common practices and techniques for potion-making and transfiguration were founded.” 

In Rose’s world, Alchemy was a sort of lite magic. There were all manner of useful, usually fairly cheap alchemical items that could be used in place of low-level magic. Rose had several alchemical items on her person. She had _torch bug paste_ , _dust eggshell grenades_ , and _alchemical sun flashes_ , all of which were great for minor miracles. 

As the seminar progressed, she learned that Alchemy wasn’t all that different in this world. It still involved minor transmutations and potions. Rose had always liked Alchemy. She had always seen it as asking the fundamental question “Which of these materials will make the best explosion when mixed together?” 

After the seminar, everyone applauded. Rose really hoped that there was a class on this; it would be an absolute joy to take. Not only was Professor Dumbledore knowledgeable about the subject, he did a good job of teaching it. 

The five of them approached Professor Dumbledore after the crowd of people around him dispersed. 

“Professor, who’s Nicholas Flamel?” Rose asked. 

“He’s a colleague of mine,” Dumbledore replied. “Why do you ask?” 

“Because that name’s the only lead we’ve got on the Package,” Rose replied simply. 

“I would ask that the five of you leave that alone,” Albus replied. Had it been any other group of students, he would’ve wondered how they’d figured it out. But, considering that Rose Peta-Lorrum and Hermione Granger were the two smartest witches in their year, and possibly the next few above them, it didn’t surprise him. Add to that the natural Potter curiosity, Sally-Anne Perk’s newly discovered people skills, and the impulsiveness of Ronald Weasley, and that summed up to a group of students that were bound to get into trouble sooner or later. Or save the world. Or both. Albus liked to keep an open mind. 

“I don’t want to take it! I just want to know what it is!” Rose whined. “I can’t find anything on him in the Library!” 

“Might I recommend the _Encyclopedia Arcana_?” 

“I don’t think there’s a copy of that in the Library.” 

Hermione had heard that title before. Where had she– 

“Hold on,” Hermione said. “I think _I_ have that!” 

Rose turned to her acting best friend. “ _You’ve_ got it?” 

“I didn’t want to use the bracelet on a book that big, so I’ve been reading it the old-fashioned way.” 

“Good call,” Ron muttered. 

“After you’ve discovered what it is, tell no one,” Professor Dumbledore said. “If you do, not only will I find out, but as punishment, I will take 50 points from each member of Gryffindor House, and you will all be serving detention every day with Professor Snape until you graduate. That may not necessarily exclude the summer.” 

Hermione’s eyes widened as she realized that that would mean 3500 points would be taken from Gryffindor house. There was no way that Gryffindor even _had_ 3500 points to take. Could the house points go into the negatives? And most importantly, why did Professor Dumbledore sound cheerful while delivering threats? 

Harry was more concerned with the part about it possibly including the summer. Which would be worse? A summer with the Dersleys, or a summer with Professor Snape? The Dersleys were family, but Professor Snape hadn’t physically abused him yet. 

“Okay!” Rose replied cheerfully. 

There was something about the crimson-haired girl’s tone that led Albus to believe that she had no problems with this. It occurred to him that Severus had complained frequently that the odd girl was trying to become his friend. Simple enough; she wasn’t the first student to take threats as challenges, and she wouldn’t be the last. 

“Except for you, Ms. Peta-Lorrum,” Professor Dumbledore concluded. “ _You_ will be serving detention with _me_ , and I will be devising a series of boring tasks for you to undertake.” 

Rose grimaced. “Alright, fine.” 

“Is that all?” Albus asked the group of first-years. 

“That’s all,” Sally-Anne confirmed. “Thank you very much, Professor Dumbledore.” 

“I’m glad I can still be of help in my old age,” he said, smiling his best grandfatherly smile. It amused him a little that people described him as “grandfatherly”, despite having neither spouse nor children. 

The group returned to Gryffindor Tower, and Hermione brought the book down to the common room. When she did, Rose was waiting with her wand drawn. 

“ _Doublespeak_ ,” Rose cast in Elven. 

“What’s that do?” Hermione asked, feeling no different. 

“To anyone else, the five of us are just talking about the weather, or an upcoming Quidditch match,” Rose explained. 

Harry groaned. “That’s right, Wood’s having us practice tomorrow morning.” 

“How come he works you all so hard?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“I hear Alicia Spinnet complaining about it in Arithmancy sometimes,” Hermione said. 

“He takes it very seriously,” Harry said. “It’s fun and all, but I hate waking up so early just before Potions.” 

“At least you’re on the team!” exclaimed Ron. “I’d give anything to get to play on the Quidditch team in my first year!” 

“And now we _are_ talking about Quidditch,” muttered Rose. “Oi! _Doublespeak_ doesn’t last forever, so who wants to do the honors?” Rose turned to Hermione and Ron. “Any takers?” 

“Go right ahead,” Hermione said to Rose. “It’ll probably just render us comatose.” 

Ron nodded his agreement. 

“Suit yourself,” Rose said, reaching down and tapping the book. She felt a familiar rush of information enter her head, as facts about most of the wizarding world were copied from the book into her mind. She got to the part about Nicholas Flamel, and visualized every individual word. One phrase in particular stood out; the instant it entered her mind, she knew _exactly_ what was hidden in that corridor. 

“It’s a Philosopher’s Stone,” she said. “Nicholas Flamel created a Philosopher’s Stone.” 

“What’s a Philosopher’s Stone?” asked Harry. 

“An alchemical stone that was said to be able to turn any material into gold,” Hermione replied. 

“See?!” exclaimed Ron. “Gold!” 

“That’s not all it can do,” Rose added. “It can also produce the elixir of life.” 

“What’s _that_ do?” asked Harry. 

“It turns the user immortal,” Hermione said. 

“Typical,” Rose huffed. “Every evil megalomaniac just wants to be immortal.” 

Harry’s face was beginning to turn pale. It had occurred to him several times that he was the first target on Voldemort’s hit list should he ever come back to life, but hadn’t actually thought it possible for the Dark Lord to return to life until just now. 

“But if Vol– erm… You-Know-Who is already dead, then it won’t work, right?” Sally-Anne asked, seeing Harry’s face. 

“I don’t think so,” Hermione said, “but if that’s the case, he must know, right? Why go through this much trouble if it’s not going to work?” 

“What if that’s not the reason?” asked Ron. “What if it’s just good old-fashioned greed?” 

“Whoever it is, they were able to break into Gringotts,” Rose said, “so we’re not dealing with some common mook. This is someone with skill and resources. _And_ someone who knows about the Stone already. It took us this much time and effort to find it, and this person has known about it since September.” 

“I doubt Professor Dumbledore even told the goblins at Gringotts what it was,” Hermione said. 

“ _And_ the person knew which vault it was in,” Ron added. 

“There’s only one category of people that fits that,” Rose said. “The staff.” 

“Snape!” exclaimed Ron triumphantly. 

“We’ve been over this, Ronald,” Hermione said. “I doubt Professor Snape is trying to kill Harry without Professor Dumbledore knowing about it.” 

“He might try to kill Rose.” 

“But Rose is asking for it,” Hermione said. 

“Oi!” 

“Would you two stop it?” Sally-Anne said. “This isn’t helping!” 

They both followed her gaze, and saw Harry looking a cross between scared and sad. 

“Sorry, Harry,” Hermione said. 

“Sorry, mate,” Ron said. 

“If he comes back… he’ll…” Harry’s voice trailed off. 

“Listen,” Rose said, turning to Harry. “If Voldie comes back, the only difference is that you’ll have an actual memory of him dying. That’s all there is to it.” 

“It’s getting late,” Sally-Anne said, “and a lot has happened today. Why don’t we all get some sleep? We know what the Package is now, so we don’t need to worry about it anymore. Professor Dumbledore is protecting it, and no one can get past him.” 

Sally-Anne was still shy and timid, but ever since getting the ribbon, she had felt different. With the complements she had received, it helped her build up her self-esteem so much that now she was a lot more confident than she had been before. Knowing that Harry was just as shy as she had been, she felt that she should be speaking up for him. Sally-Anne knew that Rose meant well, but judging by the look on Harry’s face, the pale girl’s overabundance of confidence wasn’t helping. 

The other four students agreed and bid one another good night. 

* * *

<I’m bored!> Rose informed Reflectesalon that night. <I think I’ll go for a walk!>

<Where are you going for a walk?>

<Hmm… Why not the Forbidden Forest?>

<So you’re going to take a walk through the woods at midnight?>

<Yup!>

<I am not sure that this is a wise decision.>

<Nah! It’ll be great! I might get XP for it!>

<I do not believe that that is a sufficient argument in favor of this course of action.>

<But XP!>

Both of them knew that the argument was pointless, since Rose had already _blinked_ through the castle wall and was currently floating to the ground below. Still, Rose had asked that Reflectesalon be the responsible one, thus freeing her from needing to be responsible. 

With that, Rose began a stroll through the Forbidden Forest at midnight. Rose wasn’t expecting to find anyone else out on a stroll, so when she did find someone, she was a little surprised. 

What she found was a cloaked man, or possibly woman, kneeling over a dead unicorn, apparently drinking its blood. 

“You know that only works when the unicorn’s alive, right?” she asked. 

The blood of a living unicorn could sap the strength of an evil creature, or increase the DC of a Fortitude save by one. However, the blood of a _dead_ unicorn could do none of this. At least, that’s how it worked back on De’rok. 

The figure didn’t say anything, but instead stood up to face her. It advanced on her, drawing its wand. 

Rose’s father was a Healer, and therefore had a unicorn companion. Sarista the Unicorn was Rose’s best friend until she was nine years old and her parents died, but until then, Rose had enjoyed playing games with her unicorn, and from that point on, Rose loved unicorns. This man had just killed an innocent unicorn, and Rose was going to see to it that he regretted it. 

Without so much as flinching, Rose glared at the man’s wand, and a bolt of lightning shot out of her eyes. It lanced through the air and struck the wand, ripping it apart instantly. 

“Weren’t expecting _that_ , were you?” 

The figure looked down at his now empty hand, then back to Rose. 

“That could be your head in a minute,” Rose said. “Depending on how fast you can run.” 

The figure glided off into the night, but Rose wasn’t going to let him get away just like that. She _power surged_ _Serendipity_ and aimed her at the figure. 

“ _Dragoneye Rune!_ ” 

Artificers got an ability that Rose typically didn’t use, since it expended additional charges on _Serendipity_ , called _metamagic spell trigger_. It allowed her to apply a metamagic feat that she knew, in this case Reach Spell, to a wand or staff, such as _Serendipity_ , but at a cost of additional charges. Reach Spell, as its name suggested, extended the range of the next touch spell Rose cast out of her “wand” to 30 feet. 

Glowing lines were drawn on the murderer’s back as he fled. The lines glowed red as the rose-shaped rune was completed and vanished from sight. 

Having successfully permanently branded the perpetrator, Rose turned to look down at the unicorn. She crouched down beside it and stroked the poor creature’s mane. 

“It’s alright,” Rose whispered. “I’ve got you.” 

Rose checked her _blindsight_ to verify that no one was within 60 feet of her, then looked around for good measure. She didn’t want anyone to know that she could do this. 

Rose gently touched the unicorn with _Serendipity_. 

“ _I wish it were alive._ ” 

The wound in the unicorn’s side sealed itself, and the majestic creature quickly clambered to its feet. It looked around frantically, taking in its surroundings. 

“It’s okay!” Rose said quietly. “It’s alright, the bad person is gone now. It’s just me.” 

The unicorn settled down, and Rose began to gently stroke its nose. “It’s alright. He won’t hurt you again, I’ll make sure of it.” 

The unicorn whinnied affectionately and nodded at her, and turned to gallop off. 

<Good news is that I can actually res creatures in this world,> Rose pathed to Reflectesalon as she watched the creature gallop off into the night. 

It had taken Rose until a few nights ago to fully understand the severity of her situation. She wasn’t just on a different plane; there were a completely different set of rules on the Rowling Plane than on De’rok, and all of its associated planes, which meant that this was an entirely different _world_ , possibly with a different DM. 

Having come to this conclusion, Rose was trying to rid herself of all assumptions that she had been making. One such assumption was that death worked the same way in this world as in hers. In her world, when a creature died, its spirit left its body and traveled through the astral plane. If creatures in this world didn’t _have_ spirits, then she wouldn’t have been able to resurrect them with _Serendipity_. 

<What I still don’t understand is why someone would want to drink the blood of a unicorn.>

<Perhaps, like everything else in this world, it has different properties,> suggested Reflectesalon. 

<Hmm. Maybe Professor Snape knows!>

<Why ask him?>

<Well, I’m sure he’d know! It seems like a Potions Master thing!>

* * *

As they had Potions the next day, Rose stayed after for a moment to talk with Professor Snape. 

“Professor Snape?” 

“Peta-Lorrum?” 

“What purpose does drinking the blood of a dead unicorn serve?” 

Severus stared at the young Gryffindor. “Why?” 

“Because I found someone drinking the blood of a dead unicorn last night in the Forbidden Forest.” 

“Fifteen points from Gryffindor… No, _twenty_ points for entering the Forbidden…” his voice trailed off. Hadn’t Albus mentioned something recently about something killing unicorns in the Forbidden Forest? 

“Professor?” 

“Still stands, 20 points,” Severus said, rising to his feet. “Come with me, girl.” 

“Where are we going?” she asked cheerfully. “Can my friends come too?” 

“We are going to see Professor Dumbledore, and no.” 

“Oh,” Peta-Lorrum said. “Alright.” 

Rose turned to her friends. “Catch you later. Remember to stay out of trouble, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t!” 

“You mean like follow the rules?” asked Hermione. 

“Or make sense?” added Ronald. 

“Peta-Lorrum!” 

“Coming!” 

Rose cheerfully skipped alongside Professor Snape as he led her directly to the Headmaster’s office. 

“ _Sherbet Lemon_ ,” he muttered, and the gargoyle that protected Professor Dumbledore’s office hopped to one side to allow them access. 

“Severus,” Professor Dumbledore greeted the Potions Master cheerfully, although his cheer vanished when he saw Rose. “Rose, what did you do this time?” 

“She was wandering the Forbidden Forest last night,” Professor Snape said. “I have already docked her points for it, but that’s not why we’re here.” 

“Oh?” Professor Dumbledore asked. 

“Tell him,” Professor Snape commanded her. 

“Last night I found a humanoid in a black cloak drinking the blood of a dead unicorn,” Rose replied. “I destroyed its wand and marked the person before it escaped.” 

“Marked how?” asked the Headmaster. 

“ _Dragoneye rune_. Has Professor McGonagall explained her pendant to you?” 

“To the best of her ability.” 

“I used that same spell to mark the wretched unicorn killer I saw in the Forest,” Rose replied. “I haven’t seen the mark yet, although it was only last night that I saw the…” 

Rose’s voice trailed off as she remembered exactly why she used _dragoneye rune_ over _arcane mark_. _Dragoneye rune_ was a second-level spell, as opposed to the cantrip, but it had two major benefits. The first benefit that the higher level spell provided was the ability to treat the inscribed person or object as familiar for the purposes of Divination magic. The second was that three times per day, the inscriber of the rune could sense the relative direction and distance of the rune. 

Rose activated the rune and immediately learned the direction to the vicious killer of innocent unicorns. She pointed in the direction the rune gave her. 

“That way.” 

“What is that way?” Professor Dumbledore asked. 

“ _Dragoneye rune_ allows me to detect the range and bearing from me to the rune three times per day,” she replied. “If I’m not mistaken, that’s the Great Hall.” 

“ _Everyone’s_ there right now,” Professor Snape said, “although if you are to be believed, then that means it was a student or staff member.” 

“Professor Quirrell.” 

“Why do you believe that it was him?” Professor Dumbledore asked, apparently interested in what Rose had to say. 

“He tried to kill Harry during a Quidditch match, and he let in a troll on Hallowe’en.” 

“What proof do you have?” Professor Snape asked. 

“I think Hallowe’en is fairly self-explanatory,” Rose began. “During the Quidditch match, we saw two people staring intently at Harry: Professor Snape, and Professor Quirrell. Hermione identified it as a jinx, so we figured it had to be one of the two of them.” 

“Is _that_ why someone set my robes on fire?” the Potions Master growled. 

“Sorry about that,” Rose said, glancing over her shoulder at him. “Anyway, if it had to be one of the two of them, then I figured it would have to be Professor Quirrell. Professor Snape has been here for several years, despite walking around wearing all black and glaring at everyone as if he’s angry at people for existing. He might as well be wearing a tunic that says ‘Blame me, I’m evil.’” Rose glanced over her shoulder at Professor Snape again. “No offence. You’re still my favorite professor!” 

“Yay,” Professor Snape replied without a hint of enthusiasm in his voice or on his face. 

“But Professor Quirrell recently took a position known for its inexplicably high mortality rate,” the girl concluded. “That’s enough to make me suspicious of him on its own, but then he ’accidentally’ lets a troll into the castle on Hallowe’en, which just so happens to be the night on which Voldemort was destroyed. And _then_ he becomes a suspect in an ill-conceived assassination attempt. It’s fairly obvious to me that he’s at least in on it.” 

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum, while that is a quite compelling argument, I can’t simply accuse one of my staff of attempted murder without more concrete evidence,” Professor Dumbledore said calmly. “However, I appreciate you informing me of the man in the Forbidden Forest.” 

“I never said it was a man, Professor,” Rose said. “I couldn’t easily tell.” 

“Noted,” Professor Dumbledore replied. “Once again, thank you, Ms. Peta-Lorrum.” 

“You’re welcome!” 

“You may go to lunch,” the headmaster said. 

“See you later!” she exclaimed, hopping up from her chair. She smiled at the Potions Master on her way out of the room who glared at her in response. 

<Alright, Ref,> she told her sidekick. <If they won’t do anything about Professor Quirrell, then I’ll just have to handle it myself!>

<Hasn’t Professor McGonagall ordered you not to do that?>

<I can’t hear you over the sound of my flawless logic!>

* * *

Peta-Lorrum was starting to grind on Quirinius’s last nerve. First, she foiled his attempt at distracting the staff with a troll, although Malfoy Jr. and those two mudbloods had interfered just as much as she had with that one. Then the girl foiled his admittedly haphazard attempt at murdering Potter. _Then_ she disrupted his monthly consumption of unicorn blood, and forced him to acquire a new wand. Didn’t the girl realize that there were lives at stake?! Most importantly, _his_! _Now_ he had found her sitting at his desk with her feet propped up _on_ his desk. 

“Salutations, Professor Quirrell,” the crimson-haired mudblood greeted him. “Here’s the deal: Whatever it is that you’re doing, you need to stop. You have endangered the lives of three of my friends, and you killed a unicorn. I like unicorns, so you should count yourself lucky to still be standing there with all four of your limbs intact.” She flashed him a cold smile and stood up. “You go after my friends again, that will change faster than you can blink.” 

Quirinius opened his mouth to speak, but the young Gryffindor cut him off. 

“Don’t care what you’ve got to say, I already branded you last night,” Peta-Lorrum said. “So I don’t just _think_ that it was you, I _know_ it was. Also, if, by some miracle you can kill me, it won’t make a difference. I’ve already informed Professor Dumbledore of everything I know.” 

Quirinius nearly turned pale. _Dumbledore_ knew about this? If Dumbledore himself knew what was going on, it was over. Although, if the Headmaster _did_ know, then why wasn’t _he_ here instead of this pest? 

“This is your last warning, Quirrell,” Peta-Lorrum said. “I catch you threatening the lives of my friends again, or killing sweet, innocent unicorns, and you’re finished.” 

The girl vanished in a puff of rose petals, leaving Quirinius to listen to the screaming of an enraged boss. 

* * *

March slowly turned into April, and then May, and the end of the term began to loom in the distance. Hermione was enjoying the benefits of an increased intellect, one of which being that she didn’t need to study so much. That didn’t _stop_ her from studying, of course, but it was nice to know that she didn’t have to study nearly as hard as she would have otherwise. 

Harry was becoming increasingly paranoid, eyeing everyone as if they were about to turn into Voldemort himself and kill the boy. 

“I don’t understand how you can all be so calm about this,” Harry said one night. “If Voldemort comes back, he’ll come straight after me!” 

“And if he does,” Rose said, “I’ll take his wand and shove it in a very uncomfortable place on his person.” 

“Harry, there’s no way that Professor Dumbledore’s gonna let that happen,” Sally-Anne said. “Voldemort would have to get into Hogwarts, through Professor Dumbledore, through Professor McGonagall, and finally through all of us.” She paused, then added, “Well, I’m not sure if _I’d_ be able to do much, but I’m sure everyone else could!” 

“Why do you lot have to keep saying that name?!” Ron exclaimed. 

“Because it’s only a name,” Hermione said. “Look, if you two are both so worried–” 

“I’m not worried!” protested Ron. 

“–Then why don’t we go talk to Professor Dumbledore about it right now?” 

“I think that’s a good idea, Hermione,” Sally-Anne said, nodding. She smiled at Harry. “Then you’ll see there’s nothing to worry about.” 

“I guess,” Harry murmured. 

The five of them went up towards Professor Dumbledore’s office, stopping when Rose abruptly stopped walking. 

“That’s strange,” Rose murmured. 

“What?” Harry asked. He looked around them in alarm. 

“Professor Dumbledore’s been this way not too long ago,” she replied, turning around. 

The entire group spun around and began to trot to keep up with the quick-moving girl. They were moving so fast, in fact, that they nearly all ran straight into Professor McGonagall. 

“What’s the matter?” she asked, seeing the panicked expression on Harry’s face. 

“Where’s Professor Dumbledore?” Rose asked her. 

“He’s gone for a few days,” Professor McGonagall replied. “He had some business to attend to at the Ministry.” 

Harry went pale. This couldn’t be happening. Professor Dumbledore was gone?! He was their main line of defence! Professor Dumbledore was the one person of whom Voldemort was supposedly afraid. Without him, what chance did they have? Rose was tough, but this was Voldemort, the most feared wizard in history, not some troll or dragon. 

“Harry, it’s alright,” Sally-Anne whispered. “Don’t panic.” 

“Would you five care to explain what you’re doing out of Gryffindor Tower a few minutes before curfew?” 

“Harry thinks that an attempt on the Package is going to be made tonight,” Rose said simply. 

“Peta-Lorrum, I’m going to ask you ‘What package?’, and your answer _can’t_ be–” 

“ _The_ Package.” 

“Exactly that,” Professor McGonagall hissed. Her voice got low. “I’m going to tell you five this just once: Leave it alone. Each member of the staff contributed some form of defence to that item.” 

“But–” Harry began, but Professor McGonagall held up her hand to indicate silence was required. No matter what the situation, it was well known that when Professor McGonagall asked for silence, she was given silence. 

“If I find that you five _haven’t_ done exactly this, then each of you will receive a penalty of 50 points, and detention for a month. This is for your own safety. Do I make myself clear?” 

Four heads nodded, with Rose joining after Hermione elbowed her. 

The five of them watched as their head of house walked off, then the first-years returned to Gryffindor Tower. 

“She’s right, Harry,” Hermione said. “Every member of the staff put up protections around that thing. That includes Professors McGonagall, Dumbledore, and Vector. There is _no way_ that someone will be able to get to it.” 

“Why not?” 

“Professor Dumbledore is the best of the best,” Hermione said. “Professor Vector has invented a few spells herself, and Professor McGonagall is brilliant at Transfigurations.” 

“And Professor Snape is too paranoid to overlook anything,” Rose added. 

“Don’t worry,” Sally-Anne said for possibly the hundredth time in the past week. “Professor Dumbledore will be back in a few days, and everything will be alright.” 

Harry nodded his agreement and went off to bed. As he did, he was already formulating a plan. If the professors weren’t going to do anything about it, then Harry was going to take matters into his own hands. 

* * *

**Note:** It’s go time! 


	21. The Large and the Little

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a dog, keys, and a large plant are encountered.

**Disclaimer:** Three of the four challenges in this chapter are owned by Her Royal Highness J.K. Rowling. As an exercise to the reader, I’ll leave it up to you to figure out which one isn’t. 

* * *

“Ron, wake up!” 

Ron slowly opened his eyes and saw Harry standing over him. The boy’s invisibility cloak was under one arm. 

“I want to make a run for the Stone,” Harry said. 

“What?” Ron whispered. “Are you mad?!” 

“Listen, with Professor Dumbledore gone, I just know Voldemort’s going to try to take it tonight.” 

“That… does make sense, I guess,” Ron said, flinching at the name. “Why don’t we talk to the girls about this first?” 

“You heard them,” Harry hissed, unfolding his cloak. “They’re just going to tell us to drop it.” 

“But why us?” 

“Because no one else will listen!” 

“Alright,” Ron said hesitantly. “I guess we go.” 

The two of them walked carefully down the stairs, where they found Rose reading a book in the common room. 

Harry held up his finger to his lips, then threw the cloak over he and Ron. 

Quietly, they snuck past the crimson-haired girl while she was absorbed by her book. 

After the portal closed behind the boys, Rose sighed. 

“PCs,” she muttered to herself, getting up from the couch. “Can’t stay out of trouble to save their lives. Literally. It’s like they _try_ to get themselves killed!” 

Rose ran up the stairs to her room and found Hermione just waking up. 

“Rose?” 

“They’re gone,” Rose said. “The boys are going to the third-floor corridor.” 

“What?!” Hermione shouted as Rose roused Sally-Anne. 

The dirty-blonde girl drearily looked around her, taking in her surroundings the best she could. 

“What’s going on?” she asked. “Is it morning?” 

“The boys are getting themselves killed,” Rose said. “Harry’s got it in his head that it’s up to him to stop Quirrell, so he took his trusty cohort and is now on his way to the third-floor corridor.” 

“We’ve got to stop them!” Sally-Anne exclaimed, waking up immediately. “They could get themselves killed!” 

“‘Could’?!” Hermione hissed, trying not to wake up Lavender and Parvati. “Try _will_!” 

Hermione and Sally-Anne quickly threw on some clothes, moving as fast as they could. 

“We should tell a teacher,” Sally-Anne said, tying her ribbon in her hair. 

“Agreed.” 

“Nah, this is too important for NPCs,” Rose said as the girls began to run down the stairs. 

All three of them were in a full sprint, taking the steps two at a time. 

“Rose, don’t start!” Hermione said. 

“Let’s go talk to Alex,” Sally-Anne said. “She’ll know what to do!” 

“First Question: How do we explain what we know to someone who doesn’t know what the Package is?” Rose asked. 

“Erm,” Hermione said. 

Sally-Anne thought quickly. The boys were breaking the rules; shouldn’t that be enough? 

“We don’t need to explain the Package,” Sally-Anne said. “We just need to tell them that the boys are running off to an area that’s forbidden!” 

“Second Question: How can we tell Alex with her out making her rounds?” 

That was perfect! If Alex was out in the castle, the boys would run into her, then there wouldn’t be a problem. Everything would be okay, and they didn’t have to leave. 

“Maybe she’ll find them and bring them back,” suggested Sally-Anne as the girls reached the common room. “Then we’ll all be okay!” 

“They’ve got Harry’s invisibility cloak on,” Rose said. “I saw through it with _true seeing_ , but even if I hadn’t, they tripped my blindsight.” 

“You just let them walk away?!” shouted Hermione. 

“The only thought in Harry’s head was that he had to stop Voldemort. If I had stopped him, he would’ve kept on trying until we locked him up.” 

“So why not just sedate him for his own good?” Hermione asked. “I’m sure he’s not the first student that would’ve required it.” 

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Rose said. 

“What’s he think he’s going to do, anyway?” asked Sally-Anne. 

“He’s going to try to steal the Stone before Quirrell,” Rose replied. 

“What good will that do?!” shouted Hermione. “If _Professor Dumbledore_ can’t keep it safe, how is he going to?!” 

“Hermione, please stop shouting,” Sally-Anne pleaded with her. “If we wake someone else up, we’ll _all_ get in trouble.” 

“Harry’s a scared, 11-year-old boy,” Rose said. “Rational thought isn’t exactly at the top of his list of priorities right now.” 

“Why are we all just standing here?” Hermione asked. “We need to do something!” 

“We should really tell a teacher before running after them,” Sally-Anne said worriedly. While she was scared for the safety of her friends, she was also scared of going in after them, especially with a giant, three-headed dog in there with them. 

“I’ve got an idea,” Rose said. 

For a few moments, nothing happened. Sally-Anne began to panic. Why wasn’t she doing anything? What was Rose’s idea? 

A few seconds later, a house-elf appeared in front of the girls. 

“What is being the problem, Miss Rose?” he asked. 

“You know how no one’s allowed on the third floor corridor on the right hand side?” Rose asked. “Well, Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley are on their way there now.” 

“No!” exclaimed the now panic-stricken elf. “It is being dangerous! They will be getting themselves killed! All of the house-elves is being forbidden from entering the corridor!” 

“That’s why we need your help, Dripty,” Rose said. “I need you to wake up Atrien and tell her to alert Professors McGonagall and Snape. Then I want _you_ to personally inform Professor Vector. And… Hold on a swift.” 

“What’s a swift?” Sally-Anne whispered to Hermione. 

“Swift action,” Hermione replied. “I’m not sure how long it is. Time functions differently in Rose Land.” 

“Oh, crab apples,” Rose said. 

That one Sally-Anne knew. It was one of Rose’s various curse words, although it was the only one she knew that was in English. 

“They were right. Quirrell’s going after the Stone.” 

“What?!” the other two girls shouted. 

“What is being the stone?” asked Dripty. 

“I’m sorry, Dripty, but I can’t tell you that,” Rose said. “Quirrell’s range from here puts him below the castle. Specifically, below the third-floor corridor on the right hand side; as if he’s gone through the trapdoor.” 

“Professor Quirrell?” asked Dripty. 

“Professor Quirrell is evil,” Rose said. “Keep that in mind. Tell those three professors that I marked him, and he’s going after the Stone.” 

“Professors McGonagall, Snape, and… Vector?” 

“Those three will listen to us. Professor McGonagall is our head of house, Professor Snape is suspicious of Professor Quirrell, and Hermione is Professor Vector’s favorite student. Tell them that we’re going in after them.” 

“What?!” all three other people shouted. 

“Don’t argue with me!” she scolded. “Dripty, just do it.” 

“Consider it being done, Miss Rose!” 

Dripty saluted her and vanished with a crack. 

Rose grinned. “I love that little elf.” 

“Why ask him? Why not just send Intelligencer?” asked Hermione. 

“Which one’s Intelligencer?” asked Sally-Anne. 

“The blue ferret thing that fetched Professor Dumbledore on Hallowe’en,” replied Hermione. 

“Oh, right.” 

“House-elves have got a certain respectability,” replied Rose, turning to her friends. “If I send Intelligencer, it’s less likely that the staff will listen. But if a house-elf informs them, _especially_ the Head Elf, then they’re more likely to listen.” 

She started for the portal to the common room. 

“Don’t you dare,” Hermione said. 

“We’re going after them.” 

“No, we’re not!” Hermione shouted. 

“Rose, is that really–” Sally-Anne began to ask. 

“Nothing they can do can kill me,” Rose said. “You girls may not believe me, but right now, I don’t care. Two of my friends are in danger, and I’m stronger than most of the _professors_. You saw how easily I took care of the troll and dragon, and I’ve dealt with Fluffy just as easily.” She turned to Sally-Anne. “Sally-Anne, you are one of the kindest people I’ve met.” She faced Hermione. “And you, Hermione, are one of the smartest. Between my skill, your kindness, and your cleverness, we make a great team. As I said before, two of our friends are in danger. Now are we going to stand around scared like a bunch of Slytherins, or are we going to go save them like a bunch of Gryffindors?!” 

Rose wasn’t quite sure from where her small motivational speech had come, but she didn’t care so long as it did the trick. She was going in with or without Hermione and Sally-Anne, but she wanted to have the rest of the party with her. Rose didn’t know what was down there, but she had confidence that she would be able to conquer anything lethal. It was everything _else_ that currently had her concerned. Were it her world with her magic, she wouldn’t have given it a second thought, but she could only do so much here. 

Sally-Anne looked from Rose to Hermione. She wasn’t just scared, she was _terrified_. She didn’t want to go in there with a giant dog and Merlin knew what else, but she also didn’t want Harry and Ron to die. Sally-Anne liked her two male friends. Ron was a little rude at times, but she was sure he meant well, and Harry was just scared. She knew full well what that was like and knew that fear could make you do bad things. That sort of thing happened in fairy tales all the time. But she had to remind herself that this _wasn’t_ a fairy tale; this was real life, and there weren’t always happy endings in real life. She was frightened, but right now, she needed to push past that fear for the sake of her friends, just like she had with the troll. 

“Alright,” Sally-Anne said. 

Hermione turned to Sally-Anne. 

“This is madness,” she urged her friends. “They’ll be lucky if they make it past Fluffy.” 

“Then we’ve got to get going,” Rose shot back. 

Hermione looked at both of her friends. Why did this have to happen to _her_? She had just begun to enjoy being at Hogwarts. Draco Malfoy had finally started leaving them alone, she was all but actually taking Arithmancy two years early, and she was able to learn better than ever. But now it was all going wrong. Now one of the teachers had gone evil, and two of her best friends had gone in to try to stop him from possibly resurrecting the most evil wizard to walk the earth in decades. A wizard so evil that people were scared even to mention his _name_. 

All Hermione wanted was a normal life, but that wasn’t going to happen. She turned to Rose. Rose had always kept Hermione safe, and she hoped that this wouldn’t be any different. 

_Whatever it is, Rose can handle it_ , she thought. _And if not, then we’re all going to die._

“Rose, if we die,” Hermione said. “I’m going to kill you.” 

“Duly noted,” Rose replied, grinning. 

Unlike the other two girls, Rose was _excited_ about this. Enough of this sitting around and waiting for something to happen, this was a _dungeon crawl_. Rose _lived_ for dungeon crawls; and crafting; and puzzle boxes; and books; and Shadow; and a bunch of other things. Okay, Rose didn’t _just_ live for dungeon crawls, but they were really fun! The point was that they _finally_ got to do one, and Rose was _thrilled_. 

“How do we get there?” asked Sally-Anne. “The boys have got a huge lead on us.” 

“No problem,” Rose said as her grin widened. 

She grabbed onto both of her friends and activated her cloak. 

* * *

Ron and Harry reached the room with Fluffy and pulled off the invisibility cloak. Harry folded up the cloak and tucked it under his arm. 

Ron still wasn’t sure about this; he agreed that it would be best to go in and stop Quirrell before he got the Philosopher’s Stone and killed Harry. Harry was his best mate, after all, but he still wasn’t sure why it was _them_ that were doing this. None of the teachers would listen to them, so the boys couldn’t count on them, and the girls had already said “no”, but there had to be _someone else_ that _wasn’t him_ that could do this. 

“Ready?” asked Harry. 

_This is what Bill and Charlie would do_ , Ron told himself. _They’d go in and stop Quirrell. They wouldn’t be afraid and neither will I._

Of course, Bill was a curse breaker for Gringotts and Charlie worked with dragons, so they probably had a bit more experience with this sort of thing. 

“Sure,” Ron said. _There’s no turning back now._

The ginger tried to concentrate on what would happen if they succeeded. If they did, then they would be _famous_! Well, Harry was already famous, but then so would he! Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, the Boys who Stopped Voldemort’s Horrific Return! 

The two of them opened the door and were immediately met with the Cerberus. He began to growl at the boys, then all three heads began to bark loudly. 

“What do we do?!” shouted Ron. 

“Remember what Sally-Anne said?!” replied Harry, shouting to be heard over the dog. “Music puts him to sleep! Do you know any songs?!” 

“Erm,” Ron said. He wracked his brain, trying to come up with any song he could. His family wasn’t exactly musically inclined. Fred and George occasionally invented songs to annoy Percy, but Ron didn’t know any songs. He began to think back to all the books he had been reading over the past few months with his bracelet. 

Speaking of books, _Hogwarts: A History_ popped into his head, and he recalled a song to which he knew the tune and the lyrics. 

“Wait! I think I’ve got one!” 

“Sing it! Quickly!” 

“ _Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts_ ,” Ron began. The school song was the only song that was popping into his head at that moment, but despite how ridiculous it was, it was actually starting to work. 

“ _Teach us something please; whether we be old and bald, or young with scabby knees_ ,” he continued, as the dog slowly stopped barking. “ _Our heads could do with filling; with some interesting stuff._ ” 

Fluffy stepped back a few paces and collapsed on the ground. Harry slowly crept over to where the trapdoor was in the floor. 

“ _For now they’re bare and full of air; dead flies and bits of fluff_ ,” Ron continued, growing quieter as all six of the dog’s eyes began to close. “ _So teach us things worth knowing; bring back what we’ve forgot_.” 

Harry flung the trapdoor open, and looked down into the black below. It could be only five feet, or fifty; Harry had no way of knowing. He could survive five feet, couldn’t he? Wait! He could! 

“I can’t see a thing,” he whispered. “But I’ll be protected by the ring Rose gave me. I’ll go first and let you know if it’s safe.” 

Ron nodded to him, not taking his eyes off the giant, carnivorous dog lying on the floor. 

Harry jumped through the trapdoor. He fell for a few seconds, then landed on something soft and squishy. 

“It’s alright!” he shouted up. “There’s some sort of padding down here! It’s safe!” 

Ron began to edge over to the trapdoor, still watching the enormous dog. 

“ _Just do your best, we’ll do the rest_ ,” Ron sang as he reached the trapdoor. “ _And learn until our brains all rot_.” 

Ron jumped down the trapdoor after his friend as Fluffy began to awaken. 

He fell through the darkness, unable to see his hand in front of his face. Ron pulled out his wand, and flicked it in his hand. 

“ _Lumos!_ ” 

A light appeared on the end of his wand as he landed. The ginger felt something soft break his fall. Harry had been right; there was some sort of padding down there to catch them. 

“What is this?” Harry called. 

Ron waved his wand around him, illuminating the squishy padding upon which both of the boys had landed. 

It was green and looked like a bunch of leaves or vines; in fact, the word “tendrils” came to mind. The plant reminded Ron of something, but he couldn’t think of what. 

“I think I saw something move!” Harry exclaimed. 

Ron looked around and saw that the vines were indeed beginning to move. It was then that Ron remembered what it was. 

“It’s Devil’s Snare!” 

“What’s that?” 

“It was in our Herbology book,” Ron exclaimed. “Actually, we _learned_ about it in Herbology last month.” 

“Since when do you pay attention in class?” 

“Since I can keep up with it after reading the book a couple of times,” Ron replied. “I’m lazy, not stupid. I just need to remember what to do about it.” 

“Well, you had better hurry up,” Harry said as the vines began to coil around him. He tried to struggle against them, but it was no use. The plant was too strong for the young boy to break free. 

If Harry was having difficulties, then Ron was having serious problems. Not only was the Devil’s Snare entrapping the ginger, but while this was happening, he had to try to pull information out of his head. 

_Devil’s Snare, Devil’s Snare_ , he thought. 

It hates sunlight, and therefore only grows in dark areas. Could he produce sunlight using magic? No, he couldn’t remember the spell for it, and besides which, he probably wouldn’t be able to cast it even if he did remember it. 

There was something else that they had learned, some simple way of getting around it. Something about the way it hunted. 

“Right!” he exclaimed. Ron relaxed his entire body and felt himself slide through the plant. He landed on the ground below and climbed to his feet. 

“Just relax!” he shouted up to his friend. “It responds to movement! The more you struggle, the tighter it will grab you!” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Trust me!” 

Harry closed his eyes, and tried to relax, a task that would’ve been easier had there not been a giant plant trying to crush him. Nevertheless, the Devil’s Snare slowly released its grip on the boy, and he fell through to the floor. 

“Are you alright?” Ron asked, helping Harry to his feet. 

“Yeah,” he replied. “Thanks. That was good thinking.” 

“No problem, mate,” Ron replied. “It’s just a good thing we didn’t panic. Let’s go.” 

* * *

As Harry was falling through the plant, the girls appeared in the chamber with Fluffy, who was now wide awake. He began barking at the three of them, and Hermione and Sally-Anne began to go for the door. 

“I’ve got dozens of ways of stopping him,” Rose said, producing her wand. “I can conflagrate him, I can turn him to stone, I can–” 

“Just sing!” Hermione shouted. 

Rose looked over at her friend and pouted. “Fine. We’ll do it the _boring_ way.” 

Rose turned back to the large dog. 

“ _Red like roses; gold like the sun._ ” 

_So_ those _are the words_ , Sally-Anne thought. She had heard Rose humming that tune many times before, but had never heard the crimson-haired girl sing the lyrics. 

Sure enough, one of the heads yawned, and all six eyes began to close. Fluffy lied back down as Hermione and Sally-Anne looked down the trapdoor. 

“ _It goes down to let us know; that now the day is done._ ” 

“I don’t see anything down there,” Hermione said. 

“ _Red like roses; silver, how it gleams_ ,” Rose sang as she walked over to the trapdoor and looked down. “ _Don’t worry, little one; you’re sure to have sweet dreams._ ” 

“Do you see anything?” whispered Sally-Anne. 

“Something soft and squishy,” Rose said quickly. “ _Red like roses; black as the night._ ” 

“Alright then,” Sally-Anne said. She felt as if she should say something clever, but she was still too panicked by the fact that they were actually doing this to think of anything to say. So, instead of something clever, she just went with something simple. “ _Allons-y._ ” 

“What?” whispered Hermione. 

“It’s French for ‘Let’s go’,” Sally-Anne said. 

“I know what it means,” Hermione snapped. “Why are you saying it?” 

“Erm… I felt like I… Never mind,” Sally-Anne said. 

She jumped down the trapdoor, followed shortly by Hermione. 

“ _Lumos!_ ” shouted Hermione as she fell down, causing the tip of her wand to glow. 

“ _And now, it’s time, my dear; for us to say good night._ ” 

Rose finished the lullaby and jumped down the trapdoor with her friends. 

As the three girls descended towards the Devil’s Snare, Fluffy woke up and looked around the now empty room. 

“ _We should really do something about that_ ,” one of the heads said. 

“ _Yeah, that’s the_ third time tonight,” agreed another. 

“ _I’m hungry_ ,” the final one concluded. 

* * *

“Miss Atrien! Miss Atrien!” 

Atrien turned to face the young house-elf. Whatever it was that he had to tell the Head Elf, it had the small one in a panic. 

“What is you needing, Dripty?” 

“Miss Rose is needing help! Professor Quirrell is being evil!” 

Many of the other house-elves in the common room gasped. 

“How is you knowing this?” asked Atrien. 

“Miss Rose is telling Dripty! She is telling Dripty to tell Miss Atrien, and then to tell Miss Atrien to tell Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape! Then Dripty is to be telling Professor Vector!” 

“Atrien is needing more than that to awaken the professors during the night, Dripty.” 

“Mister Harry Potter and Mister Ronald Wheezy is going to the third-floor corridor to stop Professor Quirrell from getting the Stone! And Miss Rose and Miss Sally-Anne and Miss Hermione is going to stop them!” 

Atrien took all of this into consideration. Accusations of an evil professor aside, they had to save the students. It was part of their job, after all, and Professor Dumbledore entrusted Atrien with the responsibility. 

“Alright, Atrien will be telling Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape,” Atrien said. “They is trusting Atrien and will be believing her if Atrien is telling them this.” 

“Thank you, Miss Atrien, thank you!” exclaimed Dripty. “Dripty is being a good house-elf!” 

“Dripty, you can be telling Professor Vector like Miss Rose is saying,” Atrien said. 

Had it been any other student, Atrien would’ve assumed it was a prank or a joke intended to mock the house-elves; but Miss Rose was kind to the house-elves, and didn’t treat them differently than she treated anyone else. The girl was… _odd_ , but in a society that saw them as inferior, she was something special. 

Both Atrien and Dripty vanished from the House-elf Common Room with a pair of cracking sounds. 

* * *

Ahead of the girls, Harry and Ron had found themselves in a room filled with keys. Winged, flying keys. There was a single broomstick leaning against the far wall, and a door ahead of them. 

“I’m going with one of those opens the door,” Ron said. He turned to Harry. “You’re up, mate.” 

“ _Me?!_ ” 

“Yeah,” Ron said. “You’re the youngest Seeker in a century, and this is just like Quidditch! You’re amazing at it! It’s _got_ to be you!” 

“Okay,” Harry said, looking up at what must have been a hundred keys. “Which key do I take?” 

“I’m not sure,” Ron said. “They all look the same to me.” 

“It’s that one,” Harry said suddenly, pointing at one of the keys. “Look! See the wing’s bent, like someone already handled it!” 

Ron followed the gaze of his friend, and saw a large, silver key with blue wings. As the key flew around, he noticed that one of its wings had been damaged. It was still flying around, but it seemed to be having difficulty with its bent wing, like someone with a bad leg limping. 

“Alright,” Ron said. “See? It’s not so bad. That shouldn’t be that hard to get.” 

“I think I can manage that,” Harry said. 

Harry took a hold of the broom, and the second he did, the keys reacted against him. All of them, save the silver key, darted toward him. 

The Gryffindor hopped onto the broom quickly and began to fly after the silver key, dodging around the other keys as he did. Below him, Ron was cheering him on. 

“You almost got it, mate!” 

Harry reached out his right hand, flexing his fingers as far as they would go. The silver key was almost within reach, but kept zigzagging away from him whenever he got close. He stayed on it, slowly gaining on the flying key. He brought his hand back in, then quickly lashed out at the key, snatching it up before it could dodge out of the way again. 

The young Seeker hopped off the broom, then quickly jammed the key into the lock of the door. He and Ron ran out of the room and slammed the door behind them as several keys stuck themselves in the door in an attempt to stab the boys. 

After the door was shut, the silver key and its companions dislodged themselves from the door and continued to flutter around the room. 

* * *

“What is this stuff?” asked Sally-Anne. “Is it some sort of plant?” 

“Devil’s Snare!” shouted Hermione. “It senses movement, so if you just stay still, you should be fine!” 

“Wee!” shouted Rose as she slid through the large plant. “That was fun!” 

One of the several dozen spells Rose had on her person was _freedom of movement_ , which prevented her from being grappled. This meant that she didn’t need to hold still, since the Devil’s Snare couldn’t keep a hold of the pale girl, so the Artificer had simply slid through the vines. 

Hermione closed her eyes and relaxed. The vines loosened their grip on the girl, and she too slid through them. 

Sally-Anne took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. 

_It’s alright_ , she thought. _Hermione knows what she’s talking about._

She slowly slid down between the vines and landed on her feet below. 

“That wasn’t so bad,” Sally-Anne said. 

“What’s the point of it?” asked Hermione. “It doesn’t seem that effective at stopping people.” 

“Probably meant to cushion the fall from the trapdoor, and stop anyone that comes through,” Rose said. “You’d think more people would recognize Devil’s Snare, though.” 

“Can we get going?” asked Hermione. “The sooner we find the boys, the better.” 

Her companions nodded, and the three of them walked through into the next room. 

“What do we do?” Sally-Anne asked, looking around at the keys flying all over the room. 

Rose walked up to the door. 

“Door,” she said. “Which one is the right key?” 

“ _That one_.” 

“ _Thanks_ ,” Rose said sardonically. “So helpful.” 

“What’d it say?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“‘That one’,” Rose grumbled, rolling her eyes. She turned to the keys. “Keys, which one of you opens that door?” 

“ _One of us_.” 

“Just as helpful,” Rose sighed. 

“Look for one that looks used,” Hermione said. “It’s been used twice tonight, so it must be in bad shape.” 

“Good thinking!” Rose replied. Succeeding on her Perception Check, she spotted a silver key with damaged blue wings. “Smithy! Grab that key, please!” 

<Right away, Ma’am.>

Normally, the key could exert more force than Smithy would have been able to handle, but it was already injured from being handled by two other people. So, Smithy was able to gingerly move the key into Rose’s hand without much effort. Since no one touched the broom, the key wasn’t startled by the fact that it was being handled. 

“Thank you, Smithy.” 

<Of course, Ma’am.>

“Smithy’s her imaginary friend that tilts all the paintings she passes, right?” Sally-Anne asked Hermione. 

“Yes.” 

Rose unlocked the door to the next room, and all three Gryffindor girls walked through it. 

Sally-Anne looked around at this new room. At first, it was just an empty room, not much different from the others. The only real difference was that this room was covered in runes. They were all etched into the stone walls of the room, arranged in a specific pattern. Something about it struck Sally-Anne as familiar, but she couldn’t think where she had seen it before. 

All at once, the runes disappeared, and a pale, pink glow covered the walls. It was then that Hermione was able to see the other two occupants of the room: Harry and Ron stood looking around the room. 

“Oh no,” Ron said. “It got you, too!” 

“What did?” Sally-Anne asked, hoping someone else remembered what it was. 

Where would she have learned about this? After the seminar on Ancient Runes back in February, she had started reading about wards and protective magic, since runes were the basis for most, if not all wards. Had she read about it in one of the books Rose had shown her in the Library? 

“It’s a ward, I think,” Hermione said. “We’re stuck here unless we can figure out how–” 

“No problem!” Rose exclaimed. She walked up to the edge of the ward, right near where the door had been a second ago, and vanished from sight. A few seconds later (Hermione counted six. What was it with Rose and six second intervals?), Rose reappeared. She flew backwards, landing hard on the ground. 

“That’s different,” she said, picking herself up. “I was _shunted_. I’m never shunted! The only reason I’d be shunted is if that wall is at least 60 feet thick!” 

“That wall _can’t_ be 60 feet thick,” Hermione reasoned. “There’s no point to making a wall 60 feet thick, and we know that’s where the door is.” 

“Then there’s nothing on the other side of it,” Rose said. 

“What’s that mean?” Ron asked. 

“We’re stuck,” Rose said, turning to face her friends. “I can’t get past it. We’re trapped until we can figure out how to get out of this.” 

* * *

**Note:** If you haven’t figured out which challenge is new yet, then I’ll give you a hint: It’s the last one in this chapter. 


	22. The Best and the Brightest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a new challenge arises.

**Disclaimer:** I am the best! I am the brightest! But J.K. Rowling still owns Harry Potter. 

* * *

“Professor Vector! Professor Vector! Professor Vector!” 

Septima slowly opened her eyes and looked around for the source of the sound. Beside her bed was a house-elf, his ears flopping wildly as he jumped up and down. 

“What is it?” she replied groggily, sitting up in her bed. She rubbed her eyes to make sure she was fully awake and not imagining the house-elf at the side of her bed. 

_Nope, still there_ , she thought after rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. 

The house-elf took a deep breath. 

“Professor Quirrell is being evil, and Mister Harry Potter and Mister Ronald Wheezy is going to the third-floor corridor to stop him, and Miss Rose and Miss Sally-Anne and Miss Hermione is trying to save them!” 

Septima was tired. She was still a little groggy, so she wasn’t certain that she had heard the excited house-elf correctly. What it _sounded_ like was that her favorite Arithmancy prodigy was going into the forbidden corridor in order to save her friends and stop one of Septima’s own coworkers. 

“Did you just say that _Hermione_ is heading into the forbidden corridor?” Septima asked. 

“Yes, with Miss Rose and Miss Sally-Anne!” 

Septima moved so fast that she nearly fell over leaping out of her bed. She quickly threw some clothes on, and was out of the door to her flat in less than five minutes. There were 280 students in the castle at most times. She wasn’t sure how it always ended up working that they were divided evenly amongst the years and houses, but there you had it. While the house-elf had provided her with surnames for Potter and Weasley (At least, that’s who she was assuming “Ronald Wheezy” was supposed to be), he had not provided her with surnames for the three girls. This being the case, there was a slight possibility that she was mistaken, but she knew deep down that she wasn’t. 

There was only one student in Hogwarts named Hermione, and that was Hermione Granger. _Her_ Hermione. Her model student; her Arithmancy prodigy. That girl was going to be rewriting modern Arithmancy before she graduated, and Septima was eager to see her do it. But the Gryffindor couldn’t do that if she were dead, and Septima was going to move the castle itself to ensure that that didn’t happen. 

“Has Minerva been notified of this?” she asked the elf. 

As strict as Minerva was, she always kept her students safe. She’d want to know immediately when one of her students was in danger, much less five. 

“Yes, Professor Vector, we can be going to see her right away!” the house-elf exclaimed. “Miss Rose told Dripty to be telling Miss Atrien to be telling Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape, so that is what Dripty was doing! Then, Dripty is telling Professor Vector, just like Miss Rose was instructing! Dripty is being a well-behaved house-elf!” 

“Peta-Lorrum told you this?” Septima asked as she ran through the halls. It wasn’t too far from her flat to Minerva’s, so if she were lucky, then she’d be able to catch up to the Deputy Headmistress. She would never let harm come to her students while she was still breathing. Peta-Lorrum was right to ask for her head of house’s help with this. 

“Yes, Miss Rose and Dripty is being friends!” 

From what Septima had heard about Rose Peta-Lorrum, this didn’t really surprise her. Hermione had mentioned visiting the house-elves once, but hadn’t mentioned that the quirky girl who escorted Hermione to and from her Arithmancy lessons was friends with them. 

Septima was worried about the five Gryffindors. Even if they all had their individual talents, they would still have problems with the challenges. Sure, Fluffy probably wouldn’t present much more of a challenge to Peta-Lorrum than that troll had back in October, but the Devil’s Snare could be tricky for her. Septima figured that Hermione would know the trick to it, but then after that were Filius’s keys, then… 

No. 

She almost stopped running. After that was _her_ challenge. The challenge that she and Bathsheda had created together. The ward that they had made impermeable. The perfect prison, they had said. Septima could get them out, but not alone. She’d need help, and she needed to move _fast_. 

“Dripty, right?” she asked. 

“Yes, Professor Vector?” 

“We need to fetch Professor Babbling. She’s got an alarm rune set to notify her when the Package is being threatened, and she may be the only one that can get those kids out of there before they die!” 

“Yes, Ma’am!” Dripty exclaimed. Even though Miss Rose and her friends were possibly in danger, Dripty had never felt so important! It was exciting! 

She turned around and sprinted towards Bathsheda’s flat, with Dripty at her heels. 

* * *

“What do you mean ‘trapped’?” asked Ron. 

“I mean I can’t get out,” Rose said. 

“What about _dimension door_?” asked Hermione. 

“I can try,” Rose said, “but I doubt it’s going to work any better than _greater blink_. What I just tried to do was use _greater blink_ to pass into the Ethereal Plane temporarily and walk through the ward. However, even walking straight back the way we came, I couldn’t reach the exit. That means that this ward isn’t just keeping us inside this room, it _removed_ the room from where it was. That’s why we couldn’t see Ron or Harry when we got here.” She grinned. “It’s _brilliant_ though! I can’t even _blink_ through it! It’s protecting all forms of entry, and completely covering our exits. We can’t even go back the way we came!” 

“Do you have to sound so happy?” asked Ron. 

“Well, _yeah!_ ” exclaimed Rose. “It’s the perfect prison!” She cocked her head to the side. “Well, assuming it doesn’t run out of power.” 

“There must be some way of getting through it though,” Sally-Anne said. “Right?” 

“Must be,” Harry said. “We haven’t seen anyone, and we know Quirrell’s been through here.” 

“Do we?” Hermione asked. “Did either of _you_ two see anyone?” 

Hermione didn’t want to doubt Rose, but she knew this was all too bizarre. They had no way of knowing that Quirrell had actually passed through, other than Rose making some idle note about it back in the common room. 

“No, we haven’t,” Ron said. “If Quirrell was through here, then he’s been ahead of us this whole time.” 

Rose stared off into space, then her face changed to one of intrigue to one of confusion. 

“I can’t sense him,” Rose said. “I can’t sense the rune on Quirrell.” 

“What does that mean?” asked Harry. 

“We’re on a different plane,” Rose said. “That’s the only thing that would stop me from being able to detect the rune. Doesn’t matter though; Quirrell’s been through here.” 

“But how do _you_ know that?” Ron asked. 

“I’ve been periodically interrogating the stones to verify that someone was in fact going this way.” 

“Okay, so we _do_ know someone’s been here,” Hermione said. 

“That made sense to you?” Ron asked. 

Sally-Anne and Hermione exchanged glances, then nodded. “Yeah.” 

“She can talk to stones, Ron,” Harry explained. “I guess they talk back, too. It’s what actually happened last October during Transfigurations.” 

“Are you sure she wasn’t just going mad?” 

“She’s done it before, Ronald,” Hermione huffed, “and she’s done it since. Right now, questioning one another isn’t going to get us out of this. We need to figure this out so we can head back to Gryffindor Tower and let the teachers handle this.” 

“But we’ve come this far!” complained Ron. 

“What are we gonna do when we catch up to him?” asked Hermione. “We’re _first-years_!” 

“I say we throw Rose at him,” Ron said. 

“I like that plan!” Rose said cheerfully. 

Hermione was losing her patience. She knew the teachers could handle whatever was happening, even if Professor McGonagall had completely ignored them earlier. Surely Professor Vector would listen to her. 

“I’m _serious_!” shouted Hermione. 

“So am I,” Rose said. “I can turn him to stone once we catch up to him, then turn him back after Professor Dumbledore returns, which shouldn’t be too long if Dripty followed my instructions. That trapdoor brought us underground, so _undermaster_ is in effect. It will be trivial for me to beat him, since I don’t think he’s actually got a Fortitude Save.” 

Hermione took a deep breath, and tried to relax. “Alright. Why not let Rose handle it on her own then?” 

“Because we’re a team!” Rose exclaimed. “We need to stick together!” 

“Rose, stop it!” shouted Hermione. “This is serious! The four of us don’t have a chance against someone with experience! Who knows what Quirrell will do when we catch up with him?!” 

“Hermione,” Rose said, turning to her friend. She put her arms on the bushy-haired girl’s shoulders. “I will keep you safe.” 

“But you shouldn’t _have_ to keep us safe,” Hermione argued, shrugging off the girl’s hands. “If the four of us just leave, then you can handle him on your own.” 

“ _Him_ , I’m not concerned with,” Rose said. “It’s everything _up_ to that point. I can’t get out of this on my own; who’s to say that I won’t run into something with which I need your help.” 

“Alright,” Hermione conceded. She took another deep breath to keep herself calm. “We need to get out of this thing, but first we need to know what this is. Any ideas?” 

“I think I may know,” Sally-Anne spoke up. 

All four of her friends turned to look at her. 

“After the seminar on Ancient Runes, I looked up some books on runes,” she explained. “I liked the idea of wards, so I asked Rose for help. She showed me where the academic papers are kept in the Library, and one of them explained some sort of… erm… What was that word?… A dim… dimensional prison.” 

“That sounds like what this is,” Rose said, grinning. “Excellent work, Sally-Anne!” 

“Thanks, I guess,” she said. “I don’t see how that’s going to help us out of here.” 

“Do you remember anything else about it?” Hermione asked. 

Sally-Anne squeezed her eyes shut and concentrated on the paper she had read. “The prison is created by setting up equi… equidistant rooms around a single rune… Sorry, runes around a room,” she recalled. “The prison is created and removes the ability to see the runes, which keeps them safe. In order to escape the prison, a door is formed by countering two of the runes at the same time, but I don’t know what that means.” She opened her eyes. “I thought it sounded like an interesting spell, so I wrote down some of it. But that’s all in one of my notebooks… which is back in my room.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Rose said. “That’s _perfect!_ ” 

“How do we counter a rune?” Harry asked. “I don’t think Professor Babbling mentioned that.” 

“A counter-rune,” Ron said. “One of the textbooks said something about a counter-rune, but you need an incantation along with it. It’s drawn over the top of the rune.” 

“That’s right,” Hermione said. “I _might_ know how to arithmantically derive all of that, since it’s only a counter-rune, but in order to do that, I need the actual rune first. Counter-runes only exist for runes with an actual equation, so theoretically I can just invert the equation to obtain the counter-rune. After I’ve got it, I should be able to spellcraft the incantation. Sally-Anne, did it describe the runes?” 

“No,” she said, shaking her head sadly. “If I remember right, it depends on the size and shape of the room. I think there was more about Arithmancy in it, but I don’t remember the equations.” 

“I caught a glimpse of the runes on our way in here,” Harry said. 

“That’s great, but can you remember exactly?” Hermione asked. 

“I don’t–” Harry started. 

“You don’t have to,” Rose said, producing her wand. “I can jog your memory, then read your mind to get the pattern. After that I can just draw it.” 

Rose grinned at Hermione, and Hermione got an idea of what Rose was about to do. 

“You’re going to use _divine enlightenment_?” Hermione asked. 

“Yup!” Rose replied. 

“What’s divine… divine… what’s that?” asked Harry. 

“A spell to make you smarter,” Hermione said. “Rose keeps it on her, or one of her things. It’s like my hair clip, but five times as strong.” She turned to Rose. “Before you do that, have you got a pencil and some paper? While the counter-rune should just be an inverse function, I can get started on the equations to derive the incantation for it from that equation.” 

“I _might_ be able to help with that,” Ron said. 

Hermione turned to stare at the ginger. There was no way Ron could help at all. 

“What?” he asked defencively. “I wanted to know what was so interesting about Arithmancy, so I read a few books on it.” 

“It can’t hurt to have a second head working on it,” Rose said, handing a pencil and paper to Hermione. 

“Someone should make sure to catch Harry,” Hermione said. “The sudden intelligence enhancement makes a person dizzy.” 

“I’ve got him,” Sally-Anne said, putting her hands out to catch Harry. 

Hermione and Ron got started on the equations, while Rose turned to Harry, touching him with her wand. 

“ _Ayeth Thrana._ ” 

Harry’s head was suddenly bursting with information. It was as if there were a thousand voices all trying to talk to him at once, and none of them wanted to be quiet about it. His head began to burn as more information crammed itself into his mind. 

“Harry, focus on me,” Rose said. 

She and Sally-Anne grabbed their friend before he keeled over. 

“Concentrate on me for a moment,” Rose said. “We haven’t got long, _divine enlightenment_ only lasts for two minutes.” 

The fog of noise in Harry’s mind began to clear, and he looked at his friend. 

“I feel faint,” he muttered. 

“That’s fine,” Rose said. “Just keep looking at me.” 

She waved her wand again. 

“ _Valla Glondoch._ ” 

As Harry finally began to steady himself, Rose entered the boy’s mind. 

<What did the runes around the door look like?>

Rose got an image of a pair of mostly circular runes. They looked like scribbles to Rose, but she was sure that Hermione would make sense out of them. 

“Perfect,” she replied, dismissing _probe thoughts_. 

She immediately pulled out her sketchbook from her picnic basket and began to draw both runes. Rose took her time with her drawings; every detail had to be exact for them to get out of this. 

As she drew, Sally-Anne kept a hold of Harry to steady him. 

“It’s alright, Harry,” she said soothingly. “I’ve got you.” 

“Alright, that’s my part finished,” Rose said as she completed the drawings. “How are you two doing?” 

“I think we’ve got it,” Hermione said, running over to Rose with her paper. Hermione glanced down at the sketches of the two runes. “Perfect! Those are polar equations. I just need to invert them, and then plug in the equations to the formula, and that will give us the incantations to the spells.” 

“You’re on your own for that one,” Ron said. 

“No offence, Ronald, but you weren’t particularly helpful just now either,” Hermione said. 

“Oi! I tried my best!” 

“It’s alright,” Sally-Anne said, wiping her forehead. She was so stressed she was beginning to sweat. “I think this all a bit over our heads.” 

“What she said,” Rose added. “I’m not even sure what polar equations are. Have they got to do with cold magic?” 

Hermione blinked, then sighed. As bright as Rose was, she could act so _childish_ sometimes. “No, Rose, they don’t.” She smirked. “Although, there _is_ a type of polar graph called a ’Rose Graph’.” 

Rose beamed as Hermione began to look over the runes, and began to work on determining the equation. 

As Harry’s head cleared, he looked at Ron and Sally-Anne and noticed that his friends were starting to look pale. 

“Are you two alright?” he asked them. 

“Yeah, just a little tired,” Ron said. 

“Me too,” Harry said. 

“We could all use some sleep after this,” Sally-Anne added. 

“How long is this going to take you?” Rose asked Hermione. 

“I don’t know, 10 minutes? These are _very_ complicated graphs.” 

“Alright, then let’s speed things up,” Rose said, tapping Hermione with _Serendipity_. “ _Ayeth Thrana._ ” 

Hermione felt a familiar dizzying sensation as her Intelligence increased drastically. 

Looking back down at the two runes, suddenly the equations became apparent to her. 

“I could get used to this,” she muttered. 

Hermione quickly scribbled down the equations for both runes, but she began to feel faint. “On second thought, I’m not sure. I don’t feel so well.” 

Rose looked at her other three companions, noticing each of them starting to go pale. As she did, a thought struck her. 

“Sally-Anne, from where does the dimensional prison draw its power?” 

“What?” 

“It would be pointless to make a prison with a finite power supply, otherwise once it ran out, it would be rendered useless. So where does it draw power?” 

“I’m not sure,” Sally-Anne said. “I can’t remember.” 

“Don’t worry about it; we’re almost done,” Hermione said. “Now it’s just a matter of deriving the counter-runes, which is really just an inverse equation to these. What Ronald and I were determining was the step _after_ that, which is determining the incantation, since the wand movement is essentially just tracing out the rune.” 

“How advanced _is_ this stuff?” asked Ron. 

“Counter-runes aren’t _too_ advanced,” Hermione replied, “but if the paper about dimensional prisons was just an academic paper, then this probably hasn’t been done before.” 

“Nice!” 

In a minute, Hermione had worked out the equation for both counter-runes, and after another minute, explained polar equations to Rose. 

“You take theta and vary it between zero and two-pi radians,” she explained. “You start at the center, and use this equation for the radius. Do you think you can draw these precisely enough?” 

“It’s still a Craft Check,” replied Rose. “I’ve got a +37 normally, 57 total if I take 20, or I can go _moment of prescience_ for a +57, 77 after taking 20.” 

Hermione ran through Rose’s information on Craft Checks up to that point and came to the conclusion that Rose’s drawing ability would be sufficient. 

She began to feel more faint than she already did as the effects of _divine enlightenment_ wore off. 

“So you can do this?” Hermione asked wearily. 

“Yup!” Rose replied. She got to work carefully drawing out the counter-runes. 

“Who’s going to cast these?” Ron asked, sitting down. 

“They need to be done _precisely_ ,” Hermione said. “The words and everything. No offence, Ronald, but I’ve never once seen you get a spell right on your first try.” 

“Oi!” 

“Why not you and Rose?” Harry asked her. 

“Can’t!” Rose said as she continued sketching. 

They turned to Rose. 

“But… but you’re the best!” exclaimed Harry. 

“You get every spell on your first try,” Hermione added. 

“Can’t cast spells,” Rose said, as she finished drawing the first counter-rune. “Been cheating.” 

All four other students stared at Rose. 

“What?” Hermione deadpanned. 

* * *

“Septima!” 

“Bathsheda!” 

Septima found the Ancient Runes Professor just as she was leaving her flat. 

“I just got a notification that someone entered the prison,” she said. “And then it was unlocked, then five more people entered it.” 

That was a bit of a shock. Not only had it been unlocked once already, most likely by Quirinius, but the students had made it past the Devil’s Snare, Hagrid’s dog, and the keys faster than she’d expected. Although to be fair, the plant had a trick to it, and Potter was an exceptional Seeker. 

“Alright, so that means they’re still in it,” Septima said. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that, considering how the prison was powered. 

“ _Who_ is still in it?” 

“Miss Hermione, and Miss Rose, and Miss Sally-Anne, and Mister Harry, and Mister Ronald!” exclaimed Dripty without taking a single breath. 

“I’ll explain on the way,” Septima said. “Minerva and Severus may already be there waiting for us. We’ve got to move quickly; Quirinius is going after the Package, and he’s already past the prison.” 

“ _Quirinius?!_ ” exclaimed Bathsheda, walking quickly to keep up with her colleague’s pace. 

“Professor Quirrell is being evil!” the house-elf exclaimed. “Miss Rose said so!” 

“Well, if _Peta-Lorrum_ said it, then it _must_ be true!” Bathsheda replied. 

“You said yourself, there’s one person unaccounted for down there, right?” Septima asked. “I know Peta-Lorrum can be a little out there sometimes, but in this case, I think she’s right. Something is happening right now, and we need to figure out what before it’s too late.” 

Bathsheda nodded. They both knew what was down there, and they both knew what would happen if it fell into the wrong hands. The problem with the staff collaborating on the Philosopher Stone’s defences was that they all had at least some idea of what each other staff member had done as part of their challenge. It was true that neither woman knew what Minerva or Severus had chosen as their defences, but they knew that both the Transfigurations Professor and Potions Master were clever and could devise some terrifying challenges. 

* * *

“I’m not technically a witch,” Rose said. “Technically, I’m an Artificer with a staff of _wish_ that I _power surge_ to use spells. I’ve explained this before, but I suspect that you all just assumed I was rambling on about nonsense. I can’t actually cast _your_ spells, but I can replicate most of them, with a few exceptions. This happens to be one of them, which is why this is just now coming up.” She handed Hermione the papers with the runes. “I’d also like to point out that at no time have I claimed to be a witch, nor have I claimed to be able to cast _your_ spells. In fact, I’ve made little effort to hide the fact that I can’t cast the same spells as you lot. Again, I think you all just assumed that I was joking or mad.” 

Hermione’s face began to flush. “What?!” she shrieked. 

“Not right now, Hermione,” Harry said. “We can yell at Rose later. Right now, we need to get out of this and catch up to Quirrell.” 

“He’s right,” Rose said. “The prison’s draining you lot. That’s why you all look awful, and I don’t.” 

“Are you sure?” Harry asked. 

“All of you look awful right now,” Rose said. “You’re pale, sweating, like you’ve all just had to remember the long distance run rules.” 

“What?” Ron asked. 

“She means like we just ran a marathon,” Hermione translated through gritted teeth, her face still red with anger. 

“I’m the only one unaffected by it, most likely because it’s Con drain, and I’m not subject to it.” 

Hermione’s head was a flurry of thoughts and emotions. She was dizzy from _divine enlightenment_ wearing off, angry at Rose, excited about doing OWL-level Arithmancy well, faint from the prison draining her, and still furious at Rose. This was supposed to be her best friend, and the girl had been _lying_ to her this entire time. What else was a lie? Were her parents actually dead? Did any of her family even exist? Was her name even Rose Peta-Lorrum? 

“Well, I guess this explains why no one understands how your magic works,” Hermione huffed, still angry at her friend. “Alright, fine. Who else is casting this besides me?” 

“I’m not sure I can,” Sally-Anne said. “I can’t usually get a spell right on my first shot either.” 

“I might be able to,” Harry said. “I guess I’m alright at Defence.” 

“Alright, Harry, Hermione, you do it,” Ron said. 

“I’ll need someone to hold my cloak,” Harry said, motioning to the cloak under his arm. 

“I’ve got it,” Sally-Anne and Ron said at the same time. 

“You go ahead,” Sally-Anne said to the ginger. 

Harry passed off the cloak to Ron, then pulled out his wand. 

“One question first,” Hermione said, turning to Rose. “If you’ve been lying about that, what else have you been lying about?” 

“Not the time, Hermione,” Rose said. “I promise I’ll explain everything, but–” 

“Then give me _something_!” Hermione shouted. 

“Why do you hate dragons?” Sally-Anne asked as Ron and Harry shrank back. 

The boys didn’t want to get in the middle of an argument between an angry Hermione and the girl that they no longer understood. 

Sally-Anne, on the other hand, wanted to settle this before it turned into a fight, and she knew that all of them had asked that question at some time or another. 

That was one of two questions Hermione had about Rose at the moment, but the second one was about her parents, and she didn’t really want to go down that road just now. 

“I don’t want–” Rose began, but Hermione cut her off. 

“Did one kill your parents?” 

“No, but–” 

“Then what?!” 

“I don’t hate dragons because one killed _my parents_!” Rose shouted, pulling off her goggles. “I hate dragons because one killed _me_.” 

Hermione wouldn’t have believed it otherwise, but she saw the look on Rose’s face. There was a mixture of emotions on it, and it looked… wrong. Rose was always so cheerful, but it was like she was experiencing foreign emotions. There were a variety of emotions all attempting to mix with Rose’s abnormal levels of joy. It was like watching someone try to smile when they didn’t know how or when it was physically painful to do so. 

“Huh?” Ron asked. “What? How? Huh?!” 

“Alright,” Hermione said, nodding. “I believe you.” 

“Thanks,” Rose said. “You four did excellent work, no matter what happens.” 

“Thanks, Rose,” Sally-Anne said. “You too.” 

Hermione and Harry practiced tracing the counter-runes and chanting the incantations. 

“Ready?” she asked him. 

“As ready as I’m going to be,” Harry said. 

“Good luck,” Sally-Anne whispered. 

The two stood on opposite sides of the door, where they knew the runes to be. 

Both Gryffindors took deep breaths and began to chant the complicated incantations. 

Hermione and Harry carefully traced out the runes with their wands from memory, chanting the incantations as they did. Harry’s hand began to tremble, but he grabbed his right wrist with his left hand to hold it steady. 

As the two first-year students completed the incantations and wand movements, a ripple was sent through the pink field. A small hole appeared in the prison and began to grow. After a moment, the entire door was left exposed, allowing the students to leave the prison. 

Harry and Hermione lowered their wands. Both of Harry’s hands were now trembling, and Hermione let out a sigh of relief. 

“We did it!” exclaimed Ron. He ran through the door, followed by Sally-Anne, then Harry. 

Hermione and Rose exchanged glances, and the two of them ran through the door and out of the prison. 

The five of them found themselves in a short corridor. 

“Why is there a corridor here?” asked Hermione. “We haven’t seen one until just now.” 

“I don’t know,” replied Ron, shrugging. 

“I’m sure there’s a reason,” Sally-Anne panted. “I’m still glad we made it out of there.” 

“It’s like I said! We’re a great team!” exclaimed Rose. “Right?!” 

There was a murmuring of exhausted agreement from the rest of her “team” as the four of them decided that this was a good spot to rest for a minute. 

“Right!” exclaimed Rose. 

“Rose, make me a promise,” Hermione said, turning to her friend. 

“Anything, Hermione,” the crimson-haired Gryffindor replied. 

“No more lies, okay?” 

“I promise,” Rose said, sitting across from Hermione. “You don’t have to trust me, though.” 

“I never said I didn’t trust you,” Hermione said. “You’re still my friend, and I think you mean well. This is just an awful lot to take in all at once.” 

“Oh,” Rose replied, a little disappointed. 

“Wait,” Hermione said, scowling. “Are you… _upset_ that I trust you?” 

“A little,” Rose said. “There’s a slight chance that this is a bad thing, but I think I’ve actually conditioned myself to enjoy having someone look at me with paranoia.” 

Hermione blinked. With a perfectly straight face, she replied, “I don’t see how that could possibly be a problem, Rose.” 

Rose grinned. “Oh good. I was starting to worry that I might be going mad!” 

Her friends stared at her for a solid minute. 

“‘Starting to’?” asked Sally-Anne. 

“Already passed ‘worry’,” murmured Hermione. 

“‘ _Might be_ ’?!” exclaimed Ron. 

“‘Going’?” muttered Harry. 

“‘Mad’!” exclaimed Rose, throwing up her arms. She looked around at the dumbfounded faces of her friends. “I thought we were playing a game. Did we win?” 

Hermione continued to stare at her crimson-haired friend. Hermione had never met someone quite like Rose. The pale girl shifted moods like a current; she was serious one second, threatening someone the next, and acting like a six-year-old the second after that. 

“Yes, Rose,” Sally-Anne said, climbing to her feet. “We won.” 

“We need to keep moving,” Harry said. “Quirrell could already have the Philosopher’s Stone.” 

“Alright!” Rose exclaimed. She turned to Ron, who was still holding Harry’s cloak. “I can toss that in my picnic basket.” 

Ron turned to Harry, who nodded. 

Rose stashed the cloak in her basket, and the five of them opened the door to the next challenge. 

* * *

“I don’t believe it,” Bathsheda said, looking at the dozens of runes covering her arm. Each one was linked to a different, remote alarm rune, but only one of them was currently glowing. 

“What is it?” Septima asked her colleague. 

“The prison was just unlocked. The children made it through! How is that possible? They’re _first-years_!” 

Her friend had a point. How _had_ the children made it through? They would’ve had to have amazing eyes to have been able to spot the runes, not to mention knowledge of a dimensional prison, for which this was the prototype, and the ability to work out the counter-runes, which required extensive knowledge of Arithmancy. 

Such as knowledge obtained by reading advanced Arithmancy texts several times over with a magical bracelet that allowed its wearer to speed-read a book in seconds. 

And knowledge that could be obtained by studying the paper from which the prison was derived. A paper that was housed in the Library. The place that Peta-Lorrum spent a large chunk of her seemingly infinite free time. 

And eyes that were fine-tuned by practicing Quidditch religiously under Oliver Wood, and enhanced by glasses enchanted with magic that Septima didn’t even recognize. 

Septima slowly recalled everything that Hermione had told the Arithmancy Professor about her friends. They were an odd bunch of Gryffindors, but each one had quite a lot of potential. 

“Because Hermione Granger is an Arithmancy prodigy, Rose Peta-Lorrum isn’t afraid to attempt the impossible, Harry Potter’s got the eyes of a hawk, Sally-Anne Perks has taken a keen interest in wards, and Ronald Weasley likes to read.” 

If there was ever a time that Septima had doubted her decision to allow Hermione Granger to take Arithmancy a year early, this wasn’t that time. Right now, she was just wondering if she could get away with advancing her further. 

_That girl is_ definitely _taking Arithmancy next year._

Bathsheda was thinking something similar, but about another one of the Gryffindors. 

_Exactly how keen is Ms. Perks’s interest in wards?_

Bathsheda would have to look into holding an independent study with Ms. Perks, assuming Minerva didn’t expel and/or murder all five of the Gryffindors first. 

* * *


	23. The Clever and the Cunning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a chess match is played and a riddle is solved.

**Disclaimer** As clever and cunning as I may be, Harry Potter, and the riddle later on, are both owned by J.K. Rowling. 

* * *

Septima and Bathsheda arrived at the entrance to the forbidden corridor to find Severus and Minerva outside the door waiting for them. Accompanying them was Atrien, the Head Elf. 

“What exactly is going on here?” Minerva asked the two other staff members as they arrived. 

“Five of the Gryffindors, led by everyone’s favorite orphan, have gone into the forbidden corridor,” Septima informed them. 

“Atrien has already informed us of this,” Minerva said. “Has anyone got any idea _why_ they did it?” 

“Quirrell is attempting to steal the Package,” Severus replied. “Atrien told us that as well.” 

“Are we _sure_ about that?” Minerva asked everyone. “I would think you, Severus, of all people would be sceptical about trusting Peta-Lorrum.” 

“According to the house-elf,” Bathsheda said, indicating Dripty. “There are five Gryffindors in there. I have received notification of _six_ people passing our challenge.” This time, she indicated her and Septima. 

“I checked Quirinius’s flat and office on my way past,” Severus said. “He was in neither.” 

“Atrien can be having the house-elves search for Professor Quirrell,” Atrien said. 

“Please do,” Minerva said. 

Atrien nodded and turned to Dripty. 

“Dripty, we must be beginning the search.” 

“Yes, Ma’am!” 

Both house-elves apparated, leaving the four professors on their own. 

“We need to get those children out of there before they get themselves killed,” Septima said. 

“Not to mention stopping Quirinius from getting the Package,” Bathsheda added. 

Even when alone, the staff had been told to refer to the Philosopher’s Stone as “The Package” in the event that someone might be listening in on them. 

“Has Albus been notified?” asked Septima. 

“Already done,” Severus said. 

“We had best get started then,” Minerva said 

She flung open the door, and the four of them began to progress through their own challenges. 

* * *

The five Gryffindors passed through their own door and found themselves in a large cavern. Large stalactites covered the ceiling, but the more important feature of the room was in front of them. 

Covering the floor of the room was a giant chessboard. Both sides were lined with pieces, with the black pieces on their half of the room. The pieces were a few inches below the stalactites, leaving no room to move over the board. 

Across the room were a group of more detailed white pieces. Rose’s attention was drawn to the king and queen, however; they were in the form of Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall, respectively. 

“Chess!” Ron exclaimed. “Now _this_ I can do!” 

Ron was a little disappointed by the last challenge. Everyone else had done _something_ , but he struggled to keep up with any of it. Now, they were faced with a chess match. _Now_ was his time to shine. 

“Do we play our way across?” asked Sally-Anne. 

“Let’s find out!” Rose exclaimed, and began to skip across the board. As she reached the white line, the pawns moved to block her path. 

“Excuse me,” she said. “Would you please let me through?” Her picnic basket appeared on her arm. “My grandmother’s old and sick, and I’m bringing her a basket of muffins!” 

In spite of all the life-threatening danger, Sally-Anne burst out laughing. Not only had Rose read the book that Sally-Anne had gotten her, but she was now pretending to be Little Red Riding Hood. 

“There is no grandmother past this line,” the White Queen said sternly in McGonagall’s voice. “We will not stand aside unless you can defeat us in a fair game.” 

“Okay!” Rose said cheerfully. She considered using _dimension jumper_ to bypass the line entirely, but she couldn’t take her friends with her. Sure, it would keep _them_ safe, but they couldn’t easily pass through the dimensional prison to go back. There was nowhere to go but forward. 

She cheerfully skipped back to the other side and looked up and down along the black line. 

“So we just sit back and command the pieces?” she asked as she reached her friends. “That seems a little boring.” 

“We cannot begin the match until all five of you are on the board,” the Black King said. Unlike the white pieces, the black pieces were a little more generic. None of them had custom faces, but instead all wore helmets over their heads. Looking back over her shoulder, Rose noticed that the white king and queen were holding their helmets. 

“We need to _be_ the pieces?!” Hermione shrieked. “That’s dangerous! We’ll get ourselves killed!” 

“Remember everyone,” Rose said, “the fate of the world depends on it.” 

“So we’re going to play chess to save the world?” Ron asked eagerly. 

“Yup!” 

He grinned. “I have been preparing for this moment my entire life.” 

“We _cannot_ be seriously considering this!” Hermione shouted. “I’m sure the teachers are on their way!” 

“Hermione,” Rose said, turning to her friend. “Ronald is a master at chess. Even if Professor McGonagall is good, Ronald can do this. Not to mention he’ll have you backing him up. We can’t fail.” 

“I still–” Hermione said, but Ron cut her off before she could kill any more of his joy. 

“Rose, you take the king’s place,” Ron said. “You’re the one we need in one piece when we make it to the next room.” 

“I’ll be in one piece regardless,” Rose said. “I can survive anything. Put someone less durable than me as the King, like… _anyone else_.” 

“Harry, then,” Ron said, turning to his best friend. “You’re my best mate, so you take king.” 

“Alright,” Harry said, turning to the king. The large statue kindly stepped down so Harry could take his place. 

“Sally-Anne, Hermione, take the castles,” Ron said. “They’re least likely to get captured. Rose, take the king’s bishop.” 

“Okay!” Rose skipped happily over to one of the bishops, who stepped down for the crimson-haired girl. 

“What about you?” Sally-Anne asked as she took the place of the right castle. “Which piece are you going to be?” 

Ron smirked. “I’m gonna be a knight.” The piece between Hermione and Rose hopped down, allowing Ron to take its place. 

No sooner had Ron taken the place of the knight than a white pawn moved forward to take the center of the board. 

Ron moved piece after piece, expertly commanding the board. But even with his incredible aptitude for chess, it was still a difficult game. Ron wracked his brain for what McGonagall had told them back at the start of Transfiguration. Something about limited by the caster’s intelligence. That meant that Professor McGonagall was actually that good at chess. 

The first of the problems that they experienced was when one of them had to take a piece. Ron ran into it first, when he attempted to take a pawn. 

“How am I supposed to move it?” Ron asked. 

Whenever one of the white pieces took one of their pieces, or one of their pieces took a white piece, the taker picked up the other piece and flung it across the room. This was a trivial task for a large, stone statue, but not so easily managed by five first-year students. 

“What about a levitation charm?” Sally-Anne suggested. “If we all work together, then we can–” 

“ _Telekinetic Sphere!_ ” 

A shimmering sphere appeared around the pawn in front of Ron. The piece was lifted into the air, then flung across the board, landing on the edge of the cavern behind the white line. 

Ron turned to see Rose with her wand in her hand. 

“Job done!” she exclaimed. “Great idea, Sally-Anne!” 

“What _was_ that?” Hermione asked. 

“ _Telekinetic Sphere_ ,” replied Rose. “Eighth-level spell that can move an object weighing up to 5,000 pounds 30 feet per round. The sphere’s also indestructible!” 

“Nice!” Ron shouted, moving to take the place of the pawn. 

Behind him, Sally-Anne and Harry began laughing. 

“Oi!” Ron shouted. “Pay attention, you two!” 

“Sorry!” Sally-Anne shouted. “Muggle joke!” 

Ron wasn’t in any mood for joking. Every move he made could spell the end for his friends, and he was still exhausted from the prison in the previous chamber. 

Still, the game progressed, with Rose picking off the pieces whenever any of the five of them needed to capture a piece. In the end, it came down to the five of them on black, and king, queen, one of their castles, and some pawns remaining for white. 

Rose was impressed with how well Ronald was handling the pressure he must’ve been under. Rose vaguely remembered her friend Veshraolea saying something about a chess game her cousin had played as part of a dungeon crawl. He had had to command the entire field, potentially killing his friends with every move. But he had been in an _antimagic field_ , which was why the mage hadn’t just teleported everyone across. Veshraolea had said that her cousin had been paralyzed with fear, but Ronald was moving his pieces around without fear that he would kill his friends. Despite the handicap of not being able to lose one of his friends, he had still been playing magnificently. 

“Ron, is everything alright?” Sally-Anne asked. “You’ve been thinking for a while.” 

“You see it too, don’t you?” asked Hermione sadly. “We win in three moves, but…” 

“Knight checks king,” Ron began. He paused, not even wanting to so much as think about his next move. “Queen takes knight, bishop checks king, queen blocks bishop, bishop takes queen, checkmate.” 

“Ron, you can’t!” shouted Sally-Anne. “You’ll get yourself killed!” 

“But this is what I’m good at!” he shouted back. “I’ve been fairly useless up until now, and now that Hermione and Rose are here, I’m going to continue to be useless after this. The only other thing I can do is pull random facts out of my head, but Hermione and Rose can do that far better than I can! This is the only reason I need to be here! Besides, I’m not the one that needs to continue. That’s Harry and Rose!” 

“What can I do?” asked Harry. 

The boy realized that he hadn’t actually done much at all this entire night either. Other than dragging all of his friends into this mess, all he had accomplished was snatching a flying key out of midair in a challenge that was apparently designed to be an awful lot like Quidditch. Otherwise, he had counted entirely on Ron or the girls to help him through. 

“You’ve beaten He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named before!” shouted Ronald. “You can do it again!” 

“Yeah, but I don’t know how I did it the first time!” argued Harry. 

“Well, today’s a good day to find out!” shouted Rose. 

“Rose said the fate of the world may be riding on this game!” shouted Ron. “We can win this right now, and we’re probably not going to get another shot! This is our only chance! We’ve got to take it!” 

“But you’ll die!” Hermione argued, turning to Rose. “Can’t you do something?” 

Rose didn’t reply because Rose was thinking. When she found herself in a situation such as this, with people’s lives on the line, she often thought of Sk’lar. He kept his cool in battle… usually. Except that one time with his parents, or that other time with… _usually_. She decided to stick with usually. Nevertheless, Sk’lar was usually a good role model. What would he do in this situation? 

He wouldn’t have put his friends in this mess for one thing. Sk’lar would’ve just used _dimension step_ to teleport everyone safely past the white line, which Rose should’ve done in the first place. She kept forgetting that _wish_ allowed her to move any travelers from any location on any plane to any other location on any other plane. Could she do that now? 

No, that wasn’t fair to Ron. He deserved to win this. Ronald had worked hard in this match; Rose began to wonder how his strategic mind could be used later in combat. In her world, he would just become a teleportation specialist like Sk’lar, but that wasn’t really an option in this world. 

Rose decided that that was a question for another day, but teleportation spells did remind her of something. In fact, it answered her question. 

_I know what Sk’lar would do!_

“Rose!” Hermione shouted again. 

“I’ve got an idea!” Rose shouted back at her friend. 

Rose _power surged_ _Serendipity_ for the fourth time in the past 10 minutes and waved her at Ron. “ _Benign Transposition!_ ” 

In the blink of an eye, Rose and Ron swapped places. Before he knew what was happening, Ron found himself being a bishop, and Rose found herself being a knight. 

“Rose, no!” shouted Hermione. 

“I can survive anything!” Rose shouted, “but _you lot_ can’t! You’re my friends, and I’m not gonna lose any of you!” 

She counted out six seconds, then whispered another spell. 

“ _Iron Body_.” 

Rose had cast this spell before, so she knew to ready herself for the sudden shift in physiology, but then realized that the change wouldn’t be as drastic this time. Being partially undead, she already had no functioning respiratory system, so there was no panic as her heart continued to not beat and her lungs continued to not move. 

The Artificer moved two spaces forward, and one space to the side. Her now heavy footfalls echoed through the chamber as she took her new place on the board. “Oi!” she shouted at the White Queen. “Check, bitch!” 

Rose didn’t like swearing in Common, but sometimes Draconic or Dwarven didn’t do the trick. 

The White Queen angrily turned to face Rose. “You would do well to watch your tongue, young lady!” she scolded Rose in McGonagall’s voice. “I’ll just have to teach you some manners!” 

The large statue approached Rose, looming over the pale girl’s head. The queen grabbed Rose and tried to throw her. 

“Tried” being the operative word. The living chess piece had difficulty picking up the small girl. 

Rose smirked. “Having a little trouble there, Queeny?” she asked as the piece slowly picked up the Artificer. 

Hermione watched as the White Queen struggled to pick up her best friend. How did Rose do that? 

“Rose, what’d you do?” called Ron. 

“Used _iron body_ to increase my weight tenfold,” Rose replied as the queen finally succeeded in lifting the small girl. 

Rose was lobbed to the side of the board, landing with a loud thud as the now heavy girl hit the stone floor. She climbed to her feet, barely scathed by the throw. Rose dismissed the spell, then looked up at her friends. 

“Well don’t just stand there! Finish the game!” 

Ron nodded, and moved himself a few squares. “Check!” 

Sure enough, the large queen moved in front of him to block. He advanced on the queen, then realized that he had a problem. 

“How can we move her?” Ron shouted at Rose as the queen smirked. “Can you do that sphere thing?” 

“Better,” Rose said, grinning maliciously. 

Her friends took note that _that_ was Rose’s evil smile. They had each seen it before, and some of them (Ronald) had learned to avoid it at all costs. If the young Gryffindor flashed that smile, it was best to run away as fast as possible, or apologize incessantly for whatever it was that caused the smile to appear on her face, because if neither of the above happened, the other Gryffindors were fairly certain that the target had little time left to live. It was true that none of them had ever _seen_ Rose kill someone, but she gave the distinct impression that she had no issues with doing so. 

“ _Clenched Fist!_ ” 

A large, shimmering _fist_ flew across the board, slamming headlong into the queen. The sound of the collision echoed around the chamber as the pair continued moving across the board, driven by the momentum of the fist, all the way to the side of the board, completely removing the queen from play. 

“Nobody enters my personal space!” Rose shouted after the queen. “ _I_ enter _other peoples_ ’ personal space!” 

Ron glanced over at Rose with a look of slight terror, then continued his move. He stood up straight, and faced the White King, which stared back at the young chess master with Professor Dumbledore’s face. 

“Checkmate!” 

The king bowed to Ron, and stepped aside to allow the children to pass through. 

“Well played,” the king congratulated Ron on his way past. “Well played, indeed.” 

“Good game,” Ron said as he passed the king. 

“Rose, are you alright?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“Yeah, I’m okay,” she said. “The queen barely got me. Also, I think I understand the purpose of that hallway!” 

“Really?” asked Harry. 

“If one of us got flung back towards that wall, it might land us right back into the dimensional prison, forcing us to escape from it once again. I think the hallway serves as a buffer between the two rooms.” 

“Why not just put a door in the way?” asked Sally-Anne. 

“You could break through the door,” Hermione replied. “The door might not stop the player from falling back inside the prison.” 

“I guess that makes sense,” Sally-Anne said. 

“Let’s get moving!” Harry shouted impatiently. 

The five of them left the chess room, moving onto the next challenge. 

* * *

As the children finished up their chess match, the four professors looked around the room at the swarm of flying keys. 

“Does anyone want to give the broom a shot?” Septima asked. 

Minerva was the best flier of the four of them, but it had been years since she’d flown. She wasn’t sure that she’d be able to catch the silver key, even in its current state. 

Severus didn’t understand the purpose of this challenge. Sure, Filius had charmed the keys to resist the summoning charm, and reinforced the doors and walls against damage, as the four of them had discovered, but why even put the key in the room at all? Why not just put a bunch of fake keys to distract the perpetrator indefinitely? 

Severus dismissed the blatant flaw for the moment, and decided on the simple solution. 

Without saying a word, the Potions Master pointed his wand at the silver key with the bent blue wings. A green bolt shot out of his wand and struck part of the wall next to it, causing a small chunk of rock to fall. With a wave of his wand, the piece flew towards him, taking the silver key with it. The Potions Master grabbed the key and jammed it in the door. 

All three of his colleagues looked on in stunned silence. 

“I knew there was a reason we tolerated you,” Minerva muttered as they passed through the threshold into the next room. 

A familiar pink glow illuminated the room, but Septima and Bathsheda had both memorized the counter-runes and the incantations. The two women had worked together on formulating the polar equations for each rune in the chamber, then Septima had written down the counter-runes for each one. They had both spent days memorizing the counter-runes before burning the papers. 

After less than a minute, a hole opened up in the prison, allowing the four professors to exit through the door. The four professors walked through it and into the room with the chessboard. 

“Figures,” grumbled Severus. “What is it with you and chess?” 

“There are few people who can best me at it, Severus,” Minerva replied matter-of-factly. “Sadly, it looks like I need to add a certain first-year chess prodigy to that list.” 

She strutted across the field. Upon reaching the white line, she yelled “Sides!” 

The entire white line parted to allow her and the other three to pass. 

“Thank you,” she said to the king and queen on her way past. 

* * *

“What’s that smell?” asked Ron, covering his mouth and nose. 

“Hermione, isn’t that–” Sally-Anne began. 

“A mountain troll,” Hermione breathed, as she began to tremble. “It’s a mountain troll!” 

The room was dimly lit, so there was no way for them to see it. It could come out of nowhere and attack them at any second! 

Both girls began to have flashes of that day. Hermione, laying there helpless, unable to stop the troll from killing them; Sally-Anne, struggling to save her friend before they were both smashed to bits. It had been a horrible day for both of them, and the smell of a troll brought back the awful memories. 

“It’s not just any troll,” Rose replied, surveying the room through her goggles. “It’s a _dead_ troll.” 

She looked over at the troll, which was lying in a bloody heap on the floor. There was a huge gash in the top of its head, presumably the cause of the creature’s death. 

“Come on,” Rose said, taking both Hermione and Sally-Anne by the hand. 

As the children entered the next chamber, a line of fire sprang up between them and either exit to the room. 

In this chamber stood seven bottles, all of different shapes and sizes, lined up side by side on a table to their right. They weren’t lined up in any particular order, but instead seemingly at random. The smallest bottle was in the middle, the largest next to the one furthest to the students’ right, and the widest one was on that one’s right. 

In front of the bottles was a piece of parchment that read: 

_Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind_ ,  
_Two of us will help you, whichever you would find_ ,  
_One among us seven will let you move ahead_ ,  
_Another will transport the drinker back instead_ ,  
_Two among our number hold only nettle wine_ ,  
_Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line._  
_Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore_ ,  
_To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:_  
_First, however slyly the poison tries to hide_  
_You will always find some on nettle wine’s left side;_  
_Second, different are those who stand at either end_ ,  
_But if you would move onward, neither is your friend;_  
_Third, as you see clearly, all are different size_ ,  
_Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;_  
_Fourth, the second left and the second on the right_  
_Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight._  


“Is that a logic puzzle?” Hermione asked. “I love those!” 

“Of course you do,” muttered Ron. 

“ _I_ can do this one,” Hermione said, and began to think over the puzzle. 

“While you do that,” Rose said, pulling out her picnic basket. From within the wicker basket, Intelligencer flew out, circling around Rose a few times and coming to rest on her shoulder. Rose replaced the _Picnic Basket_ on her charm bracelet, and pulled her _efficient quiver_ off next. From within the quiver, she produced her _wand of invisibility_ and tapped Intelligencer with it. The homunculus immediately vanished from sight. 

“Int, I need you to scout ahead. Make sure Quirrell hasn’t gotten the Philosopher’s Stone, or alert me if he does get it. If he manages to spot you, tell me at once so I can pull you out of there. This is most likely the last challenge, since we’re down to the last of the significant professors.” 

Intelligencer nodded, and flew over the black flames that covered most of the exit to the room. 

“What do you mean?” Harry asked. 

“Fluffy was Mr. Hagrid,” Rose said, holding up a finger after she replaced her quiver. “Devil’s Snare was Professor Sprout, then the keys were Professor Flitwick’s doing, and _maybe_ Madame Hooch. The ward was probably Professors Vector and Babbling, since it used both runes and Arithmancy, and the chess was obviously Professor McGonagall. This is potions and logic, which means it’s got to be Professor Snape. The only one left is Professor Dumbledore, since the other professors don’t teach magic-heavy subjects.” 

“What do you think Professor Dumbledore would do?” Ron asked. 

“I’m not sure,” Rose said. She grinned. “But I can’t wait to find out!” 

“I’ve got it!” Hermione exclaimed, pointing at the first one on their left. “That one brings us back.” She pointed at the middle one, from which it looked like something had already been drank. “That one brings us forward.” 

“How do you know?” asked Harry. 

Hermione counted along the line, from her left to her right. “First, Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth, Sixth, Seventh. Second and Sixth must be the same from clue four, so that leaves only wine or poison in those two. But since Sixth is the biggest one, from clue three we know that it can’t be lethal, so Second and Sixth are nettle wine. From clue one, Third and Seventh must be poison, since they’re on nettle wine’s left side. From clue two we know that First must be different from Seventh, but not the potion to move forward, so it must be the potion to move backward. That leaves Fourth and Fifth remaining as the last poison and the potion to move forward. Since Fourth is the smallest, it can’t be poison, and therefore must be the potion to allow us to move forward.” 

“That makes sense,” Rose said, nodding. Something about this didn’t sit right with her. It was too… easy. Professor Snape was like Shadow. What would Shadow do? Shadow would never make something this easy, despite how difficult a logic puzzle might be in a world where most people didn’t think logically. 

“Alright, why don’t we try it?” Ron said. “We’ve got to be almost there.” 

He reached for the small bottle. 

“Wait!” Rose shouted. 

“What?” Hermione asked. “You said yourself that this makes sense for the riddle.” 

“But the riddle’s a trap!” Rose replied. “There’s no trick to this one! It’s _Professor Snape’s_ challenge!” 

“Rose, look,” Hermione said. “I know that you like Professor Snape, for whatever bizarre, Rose reason, but that doesn’t mean that this is going to be the best one!” 

“It’s not because I like Professor Snape,” Rose replied. “Also, for the record, I liked the ward best so far. But it’s because he acts, dresses and talks a lot like my girlfriend, Shadow, so I suspect that the two of them think similarly, too.” 

“Which one’s Shadow again?” whispered Harry to Sally-Anne. 

“Her best friend, I think,” Sally-Anne replied. 

“Saying that Shadow is paranoid is an understatement. She is _extremely_ paranoid. No, not even that describes it. A word doesn’t exist to describe how paranoid she is. She had me remove the need to eat, sleep and breathe just so she wouldn’t have to worry about being poisoned by her food, or killed in her sleep, or suffocated. If she were asked to create a challenge that involved potions, and there had to be a correct solution, then she’d poison all of them except two, make one of them look like it had been consumed already, and make another one the actual potion. Then, she’d write a false riddle as a clue that pointed to the one that looked like it had been consumed.” 

“Hold on, how do you mean ‘girlfriend’?” Sally-Anne asked. 

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned from Shadow, it’s to never trust the obvious solution,” Rose concluded, “which means that _that_ isn’t the solution to this puzzle. The solution is cleverly mixed in with the rest of them, and I can almost promise you that the immunity potion would register as poisonous under almost any test that we could perform. The only way to distinguish it is to actually know what the correct solution is, or to test it somehow. Knowing Professor Snape, he just tossed in the riddle as a red herring and memorized the correct solution.” 

The Gryffindors gaped at her. Hermione was keeping up with her strange friend just fine, but it was still a little strange that Rose was thinking so… _rationally_. Especially after everything Rose had said in the past few hours. There must be _something_ that wouldn’t make sense. 

“Of course, if Shadow _were_ asked to defend the Philosopher’s Stone,” Rose added, smiling as she fondly remembered her girlfriend, “she would have just built an indestructible box around it, removing any means of accessing said box. Then she’d wrap it in chains for good measure, weigh it down and throw it into the deepest part of the ocean. Then, for additional security, she’d erase her memory of it, thus ensuring that no one even remembered its location.” 

_There_ it was. 

The Gryffindors continued to gape at her. 

Rose beamed back at them. It was nice getting to call Shadow her girlfriend and not run the risk of the Halfling cutting out her tongue, as she’d promised to do if Rose used the words “girlfriend”, “love”, or a bunch of other words Rose had written down and immediately forgotten. 

“I was so sure that I was right,” Hermione said finally. 

“You solved the riddle, Hermione,” Rose said. “You _were_ right. You didn’t fail, you were tricked. It happens to everyone. It’s happened to me, it’s happened to my brother.” She shrugged. “It happens.” 

“You’ve got some weird friends,” Ron said. 

“ _We’re_ her friends, Ron,” Sally-Anne reminded him. 

“And _we_ must be weird too because _we’re her friends_ ,” Ron shot back. “Who else other than weird people would be friends with her?” 

“Of course!” Rose exclaimed. “Normal people are so _boring_!” 

“Case and point.” 

“Alright, then how do we know what to do?” Harry asked. “How do we get past this?” 

“ _I’m_ immune to poison,” Rose said. “And fire, for that matter. I can do the same for all of you as well!” Rose produced _Serendipity_ , _power surged_ her, then stopped for a moment. “Wait, Ronald!” 

“What?” the ginger asked, looking panicked. 

“We’re friends?” 

Ron hesitated before responding with “Yeah?” 

“ _Kethé_!” Rose exclaimed, throwing up her hands. “I’ve got four first-year friends!” 

“‘First-year’?” Harry asked. 

“I’ve got other friends!” _Serendipity_ vanished from Rose’s hand as she began to count on her fingers. “Dripty’s my friend, and Fred is my friend, and George is my friend, and Professor Snape’s my friend, and–” 

“I am _not_ your friend, Peta-Lorrum!” 

The first-years turned to see four professors walking through the fire. Professors McGonagall, Vector, Snape, and Babbling emerged unscathed from the black flames. 

_Interesting_ , Rose thought. _It’s only harmful from one direction. How’d they manage that? More importantly, what took them so long?_

“You five,” Professor McGonagall said, “have _no idea_ just how much trouble you’re in.” 

* * *

**Note:** In _Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone_ , the riddle is actually unsolvable by the reader. Since one of the clues specifically mentions size, but there are no sizes mentioned in the text, it renders the riddle unsolvable. As I enjoy logic puzzles, I made sure that this one was solvable, because it was driving me mad being unable to solve it. 


	24. The Wise and the Wonderful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Philosopher's Stone is taken.

**Disclaimer:** In her wisdom, J.K. Rowling provided us with Harry Potter. In my wonderfulness, I provided a fanfiction of it. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. 

* * *

Upon seeing the four professors, the five Gryffindors burst into simultaneous chatter. 

“There you lot are!” Rose exclaimed. “I was starting to wonder if you were ever going to show up!” 

“Professors!” began Hermione. “Professor Quirrell is–” 

“Harry and Ron ran off–” Sally-Anne began. 

“And we had to get through all the challenges–” Hermione continued. 

“I was brilliant at chess–” Ron was saying. 

“I caught the key, and–” Harry added. 

“Quiet!” Minerva shouted, holding up her hand. 

Immediately after the Deputy Headmistress shouted, all five Gryffindors ceased their talking. 

“The current circumstances are irrelevant,” she scolded. “I don’t care if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named came down here himself, _none of you_ should be here. I warned all of you to stay out of this, and not _one of you_ listened to me! As such, I am docking you _each_ 50 house points.” 

“But Professor–” Sally-Anne began, but was silenced by Professor McGonagall holding up her hand. 

“I asked for quiet, Ms. Perks,” the Transfigurations professor said. “There is absolutely _no_ reason for you five to be down here. It is _extremely_ dangerous, and all of you could have died.” 

“Harry and Ron ran in here, and we were trying to stop them from getting themselves killed!” Rose said, ignoring Professor McGonagall’s hand. 

“I have told you this _repeatedly_ , Ms. Peta-Lorrum,” Minerva scolded the crimson-haired girl, “do _not_ take matters such as this into your own hands. This is a matter for the staff to deal with, not _you_. Twenty-five more points!” 

“She doesn’t care about house points,” Severus muttered in her ear. 

“I _did_ ,” Rose said, getting agitated. “I sent Dripty to warn you, and as I’ve said just about every time you’ve told me that, _there wasn’t time_! We had no idea what was down here besides Fluffy, and if we sat around doing nothing, then, as you said, Harry and Ronald could’ve been killed!” 

Minerva was positively fuming. She had had quite enough of this girl. If the first-year didn’t stop talking soon, then Minerva had it in her mind to expel the girl and be done with it. As acting Headmistress, she was well within her rights to do so. She had already deducted 275 points from Gryffindor, which knocked them into dead last, but if it got her message through to these kids, then it was worth it. Sure, she’d have to suffer through another defeat by Slytherin, but she’d get over it. There was always next year. 

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum,” Septima said calmly, hoping to stop Minerva from expelling, or worse, _killing_ , the crimson-haired girl. “If you are so confident that you were able to handle this by yourself, then why did you bring along Mses. Granger and Perks?” 

“Because I was only confident in my ability to handle anything _lethal_ ,” Rose replied, relaxing now that she didn’t feel threatened. “Had I not brought along Hermione and Sally-Anne, we would still be trapped in the dimensional prison, and we figured out that it was being powered by us, thank you very much.” 

Septima looked around at the five children and noticed that none of them looked well. Hermione looked like she hadn’t slept in days, Perks and Weasley were both visibly sweating, and Potter was panting. Peta-Lorrum didn’t look much different than normal, but she always looked pale and sickly, like she hadn’t eaten or slept in months. Also, now that Septima got a good look at the girl, her chest wasn’t rising and falling like everyone else’s. Was she not breathing? 

“Quirrell is beyond those flames, possibly with the Philosopher’s Stone. We had to go stop him.” 

“We have no proof of this,” Minerva said. “All we know is that _someone_ triggered an alarm rune. For all we know, it could’ve been one of your tricks, Ms. Peta-Lorrum.” 

Rose looked from Professor McGonagall, who was glaring daggers at her, to Professor Snape, who was looking rather Snapey, to Professor Babbling, who was watching her analytically, to Professor Vector, who looked guilty and worried at the same time. 

<Professors McGonagall and Babbling believe you to be behind this, Professor Vector is concerned about Hermione, and Professor Snape has his Occlumency shields up.>

<Thanks, Ref.>

Rose sighed. “So am I to assume that the four of you believe me to be behind all of this?” 

Hermione glanced over at Rose, then back to Professor Vector. They couldn’t think that. After all, Rose had been keeping them alive! She had saved Ron’s life in the last room! Besides, she could’ve just _dim doored_ around the chess set, couldn’t she? It had occurred to Hermione that it would’ve been easy for her pale friend to bypass the chess match entirely, but had stayed to protect them. At least, that’s what Hermione _hoped_ was the reason for Rose staying with them. 

“Are you?” asked Professor Babbling. 

“First: Don’t ever ask that question; the answer will always be ‘no’, regardless of to whom you’re asking it. Second: I can bypass those flames at anytime I choose, so if I want the Philosopher’s Stone, then why haven’t I just gone for it yet?” 

“That would be a valid argument, if you knew what was behind those flames,” Professor Snape replied. “You said yourself you aren’t confident that you can handle the challenges by yourself.” 

“All of this is unimportant right now,” Professor Vector spoke up. “Right now, we need to get these five out of here.” 

“Agreed,” Minerva said, still glaring at Peta-Lorrum. 

The crimson-haired girl was awfully suspicious at the moment. She turned up, out of the blue, and just so happened to be of the correct age for attending school at Hogwarts. She learned way too quickly for her age, and knew far more than she should. The girl was able to defeat both a troll and a dragon without a second thought, and had proven capable of using magic that some of the staff thought impossible. Peta-Lorrum had taken an interest in the Philosopher’s Stone for a few months, and had now gone down to actually try to obtain it. Every sign indicated that she was working for someone. 

Still, Minerva knew Septima was right. Minerva didn’t know how Septima’s challenge worked, but she knew it drained its occupants. Four of the five first-years required Poppy’s immediate attention, and the fifth would be lucky if she made it to Poppy in one piece. 

“Severus,” Minerva said, turning to the Potions Professor, “as you know the actual solution to this, would you please go forward and verify that the Stone is safe?” 

Out of the corner of her eye, Minerva saw Peta-Lorrum smirk. 

“The rest of you can come with me,” Minerva said, turning to leave. She then noticed the flames in front of the door. 

_Severus!_

“Which potion allows us to walk back the way we came?” 

Severus picked up the bottle second from their left. “This one.” 

The bottle was passed around, although Peta-Lorrum turned it down, insisting that she would be fine. Considering that Minerva had lost all patience for the girl, she was not about to argue with her. If Peta-Lorrum wanted to set herself on fire, then she was more than welcome to do so. 

To Minerva’s dismay, Peta-Lorrum did _not_ die when she passed through the flames. Instead, she came out on the other side perfectly fine. 

As a side note, Minerva swore never to tell anyone that she had just wished that one of her own students were set on fire, despite how understanding her colleagues might be about it. 

_Keep it together a little longer, Minerva,_ she told herself. _There are grounds to expel her, then we don’t need to deal with her any longer._

After everyone else left the room, Severus took the potion to his right of the one in the middle and drank from it. Then, he proceeded to pass through the other threshold. He knew it had been a good idea to leave a fake riddle there. It certainly held up Peta-Lorrum’s group long enough. 

The Potions Master walked down the spiral staircase that led into the chamber with the Mirror of Erised. Severus never understood the point of having other defences around the Stone. Why not just throw up some wards around it, hide it in the Mirror like Albus was already doing, then seal off the entrance way? That way, only those who knew about it would be able to find it, but it was protected even if it was found. Instead, it became really obvious as to where it was being hidden because there was a giant dog guarding it. It was as if Albus _wanted_ people to find it! 

Or better yet, build an indestructible box around it, wrap it in chains, and throw it into the ocean. Maybe even have the person who threw it into the ocean wipe their memory of it, so no one would remember where it was. 

No, that wouldn’t work. Flamel had asked Albus to protect it, but still needed the elixir of life to sustain himself. That’s why there had to be a trick to all the challenges about which Albus knew. That way, Albus could bring Flamel down here to create more of the elixir. It still seemed like the Mirror idea was better than all of this. Or, at the very least, put actual enchantments on the door so a first-year couldn’t just unlock it with _alohomora_. Or better yet: _Hide the door_! You wouldn’t even need to tell people that it was out of bounds; the new students wouldn’t realize that anything was missing, and the older students would assume the castle just changed again and accept it. 

Severus reached the chamber and, to his utter amazement, found the last person he would was expecting to see: Quirinius. 

_Peta-Lorrum was_ right?! _How is that possible?!_

“Severus,” Quirinius said, turning to face him. “I must say, I was expecting to see Peta-Lorrum here, what with her constant threats against my life.” 

Severus took note that Quirinius was no longer stuttering, implying that it had been an act, probably to draw suspicion away from the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor. 

“She _was_ here,” Severus said. “And she knew _you_ were here. She has all along.” 

Severus was a little surprised that he was all but gloating about that maniac, but she had been right. Unless, of course, she was paying off Quirinius to be part of her plan. That was always a possibility. 

“As if that matters,” Quirinius said. “The girl is only a nuisance; nothing more!” 

“Oh really?” Severus said. “So killing your troll before you could make it here on Hallowe’en was only a nuisance? Stopping you from killing Potter during that match was only a nuisance?” 

“Setbacks,” Quirinius said dismissively. “Nothing more!” 

Severus smirked. “Your plans were delayed by a prepubescent girl?” 

“ _This is a waste of time_ ,” a voice hissed. 

_Last night I found a humanoid in a black cloak drinking the blood of a dead unicorn._

The annoying girl’s words popped into Severus’s head, and everything began to slide into place. According to Peta-Lorrum, Quirrell had consumed the blood of a unicorn, which meant that he had a half-life. In other words, he was sharing his body with someone else. Someone who wanted the Philosopher’s Stone. Someone whose voice Severus recognized. It had been ten years since he’d heard it, but there was no mistaking who was hiding under that turban. 

“You’re right, we _are_ wasting time,” Quirinius replied, raising his wand. “ _Stupefy!_ ” 

A red bolt of energy lanced out of Quirrell’s wand, heading straight towards Severus, but Severus was quick. With a wave of his own wand, he blocked the red bolt, deflecting it towards one of the walls. In one fluid motion, with reflexes trained by years of paranoia, Severus aimed his wand at Quirrell. 

“ _Sectumsempra!_ ” 

A dull green bolt arced out of his wand, narrowly missing Quirinius’s hand. It ricocheted off the Mirror, taking a chunk out of the wall behind Severus. 

With his wand still trained on the Potions Master, Quirinius drew a second wand and aimed it at the ceiling. 

“ _Reducto!_ ” 

A large chunk was taking out of the ceiling above Severus’s head. The Potions Master dived aside, narrowly avoiding getting hit with the rubble. 

Unfortunately for him, this left Severus lying on the floor, unable to defend himself. 

“ _Stupefy!_ ” 

Quirinius didn’t need to kill Severus; his Lord might still have use for him. Still, it couldn’t hurt to be safe. 

“ _Incarcerous!_ ” 

A rope sprang into existence around Severus, binding his hands and feet. 

“Now, back to–” Quirinius looked up, and saw someone that hadn’t been there a second ago. 

“ _No!_ ” he hissed. 

“Salutations, Quirrell,” Peta-Lorrum said, grinning. 

“You!” hissed Quirinius. “How are _you_ here?!” 

“A little birdie told me that Professor Snape needed help.” 

* * *

**Earlier**

<Int, return. I need you to watch Professor Snape. Make a note of which potion he drinks, and then follow him into the final room. Alert me if he runs into problems. Eom.>

Upon hearing his mistress’s voice, Intelligencer flew back through the winding staircase. Unseen by all except Rose, he surveyed the Potions Master as Rose returned through the rooms. 

When their group had just passed through the dimensional prison, she got a message from Intelligencer. 

<Professor Snape has just engaged Professor Quirrell in combat. Eom.>

<Thanks, Int!>

“I’ve got to go!” Rose exclaimed. “Professor Snape’s in trouble!” 

“Peta-Lorrum, don’t you dare!” 

Minerva’s words fell on the ears of four of the students, as the fifth student had just vanished from sight. She found herself shouting instead at rose petals. 

* * *

Rose’s picnic basket appeared in her hand, and Intelligencer flew inside of it. She glanced over at the Mirror of Erised and saw something she wasn’t expecting. There were her parents, as they had been before, but Mirror!Rose was holding something in her hand. It was a small, ruby-red stone that she slipped inside their picnic basket. Grinning, Mirror!Rose winked at Rose. Rose grinned back and pulled out the Philosopher’s Stone from her basket. 

“You’ve lost, Quirrell,” she said, showing him the Stone, then dropping it back in her basket. “No one gets inside my picnic basket once it’s closed. To everyone else, it’s just a normal wicker basket.” 

She replaced it back on her charm bracelet, sealing it to the rest of the world. 

“Then I’ll just have to force you to open it,” Quirrell said coolly. 

“Good luck,” the girl replied. “Better people than you have tried.” 

_They must not have been able to do_ this! thought Quirinius triumphantly. “ _Imperio!_ ” 

Having total control over the girl, he commanded, “Give me the Stone, girl.” 

“Make me,” Peta-Lorrum replied. 

“I said give it to me!” 

“No!” 

“You insolent little _bitch_!” hissed the Defence professor. 

“Big talk coming from a guy in a stupid turban!” 

Something in Quirinius snapped. There had been times when he questioned several of his decisions, but now he just wanted this girl to suffer. He had been hesitant about using the Unforgivable Curses, but now he wanted to hear this pompous, insolent child scream in agony! 

“ _Crucio!_ ” 

“You know, I looked up unicorn blood in the Library after I found you that night in the woods, Unicorn Killer.” 

Nothing was happening. Maybe he hadn’t done it properly. 

“ _Crucio!_ ” 

“You’re living a half-life. The books were incredibly vague as to what that meant, but I initially thought that it meant your lifespan had been cut in half. That didn’t make any sense to me; I mean, why do that?” 

A requirement of casting the Cruciatus Curse was that the caster had to have actual desire to cause the target pain. Quirinius certainly had the desire, so why wasn’t it working? 

“ _Crucio!_ ” 

“Then I realized: You aren’t living half your lifespan, you’re _sharing_ your life with another. That probably means your mind and your body. Then I thought ‘With whom would Quirrell want to share his body?’” 

“ _Crucio!_ ” 

“What’s that supposed to be doing?” asked Rose, tilting her head to one side. 

“Causing you unbearable pain.” 

She glanced down and saw Professor Snape coming to. 

“Welcome back, Professor Snape!” Rose exclaimed cheerfully. Seeing the difficulty the Potions Master was having with the ropes, she discharged lightning from her eyes, sundering her friend’s bonds. 

“Wait, is it like _wrack_?” Rose asked. “Cos I’m immune to any spell that specifically causes pain.” 

“What?!” exclaimed Professors Quirrell and Snape. 

“ _Favor of the Martyr_! Best Paladin spell ever!” Rose exclaimed. She turned to Professor Snape, who was climbing to his feet. “Of course, I say this cos I don’t actually _know_ any other Paladin spells.” 

“ _Let me see this girl!_ ” hissed a voice from behind Professor Quirrell. 

“My Lord–” 

“ _I will see her!_ ” 

Quirinius began to unwrap his turban from around his head. As it fell to the floor, he turned around, revealing a second face on the back of his head. 

“He’s got a face on the back of his head? That’s awesome!” She gasped as she realized what this meant. “Oh! _That’s_ how he got past the dimensional prison. Old Voldie spoke the second incantation for him! But how did he know the counter-runes?” 

“Peta-Lorrum,” Professor Snape said calmly. 

“What? Am I not allowed to say ‘Voldie’ now?” 

“Run.” 

“Why?” 

“Now that we’ve seen him, he can’t let us live.” 

“That’s unfortunate,” Rose said. 

“Yes, it is,” hissed Voldemort. 

“I know,” Rose agreed. “I marked the correct bottle with a big arrow in the last room so Professor McGonagall knows which one to drink when she comes running back here to kill me.” She tilted her head to the side again. “Which means you’ll be handling _two_ professors in addition to me! And _that’s_ assuming that she doesn’t bring Professors Vector and Babbling with her.” 

Professor Quirrell began to advance on the pair, apathetic towards the possibility of additional staff joining them. 

Rose simply grinned. 

“ _Mirror, Mirror, what’s behind you? Save me from the things I see._ ” 

“What?” Professor Snape asked the crimson-haired Gryffindor. 

“If not the Mirror, then to whom else is Voldie going to beg for mercy?” 

“I _never_ beg for mercy,” hissed Voldemort. 

“Really?” Rose asked, grinning. “Let’s test that theory, shall we?” 

Rose spun around and slapped her left hand upon the wall behind her. In an instant, the walls of the entire chamber were changed into a mirror. 

“Run!” shouted Rose, closing her eyes so she didn’t have to see the reflections all around her. 

On its own, the Mirror of Erised showed its viewer their greatest desire. The sole image that gave them comfort during their worst days, and the dream that made them feel alive on their best days. But when a reflection was viewed in the Mirror of Erised, it turned into their worst nightmare. And now, it was reflected a thousand times over, no matter where anyone looked in the room. With two faces, Quirrell couldn’t help but be looking at something. 

Quirinius stared around the room, trying to look away from the horror that played out before him, but there was no escaping it. He began to scream in terror, but his voice was cut off as he lost control of his body. 

Rose grabbed Professor Snape’s robes and tugged the Potions Master out of the room. The two of them hadn’t traversed ten steps before running headlong into Professor McGonagall. 

“ _Peta-Lorrum_ , this _time, you are_ –!” she began, then happened to glance behind the young girl. She saw a room full of mirrors and Professor Quirrell, with his turban unwrapped. Just by chance, she saw what was on the back of his head. 

“Correct,” Minerva finished, shoving the girl behind her, making sure that she and Severus stayed between Quirrell/Voldemort and Peta-Lorrum. “Your friends are back in the potions room. Run!” 

“I’m not leaving you behind, Professor,” Rose replied, stepping to the side. “All I need is a clear line of effect to him!” 

Voldemort began to walk slowly out of the room, then raised his host’s primary wand. A loud screeching sound was emitted from it. 

Rose, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Snape all clapped their hands over their ears. 

“ _Gromph ada!_ ” Rose swore as Voldemort drew closer, raising his secondary wand. 

She was unable to concentrate enough to cast spells, similarly to when the castle had screamed at her. It wasn’t as bad, but she still couldn’t do anything about the crazy professor. Not even Professors McGonagall or Snape could concentrate with the ear-piercing sound. Where were the PCs? 

“Where the Nine Hells are the PCs?” Rose shouted. “ _Summon PCs!_ ” 

“ _Expelliarmus!_ ” 

Quirrell’s wand flew out of his hand, and the screeching sound stopped. 

Rose realized that her blindsight had been tripped by someone behind her, but didn’t take the second to find out who it was. She raised her hand towards Quirrell and activated _undermaster_. 

In an instant, the Defence Professor’s body began to solidify. His very flesh turned to solid stone, immobilizing the man before them. 

Minerva stared in near slack-jawed amazement as her fellow professor was turned to stone, then looked down at the student who had committed the act. 

Rose glanced behind her and saw Harry standing there, his wand still aimed at Quirrell. 

“Well done, Harry!” Rose exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. She ran over and threw her arms around her friend. “I need to cast that spell more often! How’d you cast a spell?” 

“I don’t know, the sound wasn’t so bad from here, I guess.” 

“What happened?” 

Rose released her friend as the rest of her friends joined them, lead by Hermione, with Professors Vector and Babbling just behind them. 

“Victory hugs, all around!” Rose shouted, rushing over to hug Hermione, Sally-Anne, and even Ronald. 

Harry was still uncertain as to what he should be doing. He wasn’t even sure what was going on! 

“Like Ms. Granger said,” Minerva said, looking from the statue that was once a professor to the crimson-haired girl. “Ms. Peta-Lorrum, what just happened?” 

“I used _flesh to stone_ on him,” Rose replied. “He’ll stay like that indefinitely, or until I cast _stone to flesh_ on him. In your terms, I transfigured his flesh into stone.” 

“What about the Mirror of Erised?” Severus asked. 

“ _Polymorph any object_ to turn the entire room into one big mirror,” Rose answered. 

“Wait, the Mirror of Erised is in there?” Harry asked. “Doesn’t that turn a reflection into your worst nightmare?” 

“Well done, Harry,” Rose replied. She turned to Professor McGonagall. “Can I award him house points?” 

“No.” 

“Aw!” 

“Let’s go, everyone,” Professor Vector said. “We’ve got a long walk back.” 

“No, we haven’t,” Rose said. She mentally tallied the charges that she had spent from _Serendipity_. One to teleport herself into the potion room, and one to polymorph the mirror room. That meant she had two left. 

“ _I wish Professors Quirrell, McGonagall, Snape, Vector, and Babbling, along with Hermione, Harry, Sally-Anne, Ronald, And I were in the Hospital Wing_ ,” Rose said in Dwarven. 

The next thing everyone knew, they appeared in the Hospital Wing, where a startled Madame Pomfrey greeted them. 

“What in the name of Merlin’s Beard?!” she gasped. 

<Professor Dumbledore, we’re in the Hospital Wing,> Rose pathed to the Headmaster, expending her fourth charge from _Serendipity_. 

Within a few seconds, Professor Dumbledore appeared with a burst of fire, a phoenix perched on his arm. 

Albus looked from Minerva, who was trying hard to look authoritative despite obviously (to him) having no clue what was happening anymore; to Severus, who was eyeing everyone suspciously; to the group of first-year Gryffindor students who all just looked confused; to the statue of his Defence Professor who had actually managed to make it to the end of the term this year; and finally to Rose Peta-Lorrum, who just beamed back at him and stared at Fawkes in wonder. 

“ _Kethé!_ ” she exclaimed. “You _are_ back!” 

“Indeed, and I think I may need to stop leaving the castle,” Albus said, still surveying the scene before him. “It appears that things simply go wrong when I do. Would someone please bring me up to date on the events of tonight?” 

“Me!” Rose responded immediately, her hand flying up into the air. “Me! Pick me!” She began to jump up and down, still waving her hand in the air. “Me! Me! Pick me! Pick me!” 

Albus watched with mild amusement as the girl continued this and considered for a moment allowing her to continue, simply to see how long she could keep it up. However, there were more important matters at hand than allowing the students to behave ridiculously for his own amusement. 

“Yes, Ms. Peta-Lorrum?” 

Rose took a deep breath. 

“Harry was worried that Professor Quirrell was going to use the Philosopher’s Stone to res Voldemort, so we went to see you to put his mind at ease, but it was just made worse when we found that you weren’t there, so Harry convinced Ron to sneak out with him to go try to stop Quirrell on their own, so I rounded up Hermione and Sally-Anne to go save them before they got hurt, and we all met up in the finely crafted prison, but since Hermione’s a genius and Sally-Anne had read the paper on dimensional prisons, we were able to escape, and since Ron’s a genius at chess, we were able to beat the white team and proceed.” 

Rose took another breath. 

“Before I left, I asked Dripty to get Atrien to help him round up some of the professors in case we needed backup, which he did, and they caught up with us when we reached Professor Snape’s potion room, and Professor McGonagall nearly expelled me there, but sent Professor Snape to go check on the Philosopher’s Stone, but he found Professor Quirrell, who had been drinking the blood of sweet, innocent unicorns, and so was living a half-life which resulted with Voldemort being on the back of his head. I had already sent Intelligencer ahead, so he alerted me when Professor Snape was in trouble, and also watched Professor Snape drink the potion to progress through the fire, so I marked it on my way past so Professor McGonagall would know which one to drink when she came to kill or expel me.” 

Albus wasn’t sure what was more entertaining: the girl bouncing up and down, pointing at everyone as she mentioned them, or her insistence on saying all of this while taking as few breaths as possible. 

“Then I went into the mirror room, and the Mirror of Erised gave me the Philosopher’s Stone, and Professor Quirrell got really mad, and tried to use the crucial curse on me, but _favor of the martyr_ makes me immune to pain effects, and then he tried to kill Professor Snape and I, but I turned the entire room into a mirror, so he saw his worst nightmare no matter where he looked, because you said that a ‘reflection reflects what we see’, so the Mirror of Erised turns a reflection into your worst nightmare, and after we ran, we ran into Professor McGonagall, but then Voldemort emitted a high pitched shrieking sound from his wand, which made it hard for me to concentrate, but then I summoned Harry, and he disarmed Quirrell, and I turned him to stone and brought everyone here.” 

By the time the pale girl was finished, everyone was staring at her. After everything that had happened, including a homicidal professor attempting to kill her, she was _excited_. The girl was literally _bouncing up and down with excitement_. 

“I’m impressed by how easily you five were able to make it through the challenges set forth by my staff,” Albus said when the hyperactive first-year finished her speech. 

“Well, we have got the best Seeker, arithmancer, and strategist ever, not to mention the nicest person ever,” Rose said. “Like my friend Bowie says: ‘Morale and inspiration are the most important ingredients for success!’” 

_So_ that’s _the fourth one’s name_ , Albus thought. _Bowie, Carolina, Shadow, and… what was her brother’s name again? Scholar? No, Sk’lar! That was his name! The Exalted, I think she’s called them. I look forward to meeting them some day._

“It would seem that I need to be awarding house points,” Professor Dumbledore replied, “but first, there is the matter of my petrified Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. If you would all step away from him, and Minerva, Severus, Septima, and Bathsheda, please draw your wands.” 

The collective group did as they were told. 

“Rose, if you would please restore him to normal,” the Headmaster said. 

Albus knew what was going to happen next, and while he didn’t want to do it, there was no sense in delaying the inevitable. 

Rose looked at the Headmaster, then nodded. With a wave of her hand, Quirinius Quirrell was restored to flesh and blood. He looked around the room at the four wands trained upon him, his own secondary wand still drawn. 

“Quirinius, it’s over,” Albus said gently. “If you would please come with us, we–” 

Before he could finish, Quirrell’s eyes rolled up into the back of his head, and a wisp of smoke arose out of his body. The Defence professor collapsed to the ground as the wisp began to float around the room, assessing the occupants. 

Except for Professor Dumbledore, the four adults kept their wands on the wisp. Rose pulled her wand and followed the wisp’s movements through the Hospital Wing. 

Instead of attacking them, the wraith flew off, phasing through the wall of the Hospital Wing. 

Albus watched the spirit fly off, then turned to his assorted comrades. 

“As I suspected,” he said. “He had no more use for poor Quirinius, so he released him. Not having his other half, the Defence professor’s life was ended.” 

“So he’s…” Hermione said, shaking. 

“I’m afraid so,” Professor Dumbledore said gloomily. 

Sally-Anne walked over and put her arm around her friend. “It’s alright,” she whispered. 

Truth be told, Sally-Anne was awfully uncomfortable about it as well, but she was more worried about her friends’ well-being than her own at the moment. 

“Children, if you would please follow me,” Professor Dumbledore said. He subtly nodded to the other staff members, who began cleanup as soon as the children were out of sight. 

* * *

**Note:** One more chapter of this book, and then on to the next adventure! 


	25. Wishes and Windfalls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we get some answers, and the characters get points.

**Disclaimer:** While I do own the Girl in Red, I do not own Harry Potter. If you’ve been paying attention to these notes, then you’ll know that J.K. Rowling does. 

* * *

The five Gryffindors were assembled in Professor Dumbledore’s office. The walk up from the ground floor had been quiet, as the thought that they had all just witnessed a person die was still settling. 

They all explained, in as much detail as possible, the events of the past few hours, elaborating on Rose’s story from earlier. 

The Headmaster took in all of this new information, his face betraying no emotion. 

“Well,” he said finally. “I was considering surprising all of you with house points during the Feast, but then I realized that wouldn’t be fair to the other students who didn’t just assist in thwarting an attempted resurrection of an evil wizard, so I’ll just do that now.” 

He turned to Ron. 

“Mr. Weasley, I never thought I’d live to see the day when Professor McGonagall was beaten at chess, much less by someone so young. You’ve got quite a mind for strategy, being able to beat her with the handicap of keeping four of your pieces from being captured. For being able to keep your head and defeat Professor McGonagall, despite being under that much pressure, I award you 50 points.” 

Ron’s eyes grew wide. _Fifty_ points?! On a good day, he was lucky to get _five_! 

“Ms. Perks, once again, your bravery astonishes me. Despite being afraid, you followed two of your friends into danger in order to save two more of your friends. Your constant support kept your friends from breaking down whilst they sorted out the dimensional prison, not to mention your knowledge of the prison is what allowed your friends to break through it. Fifty points.” 

Sally-Anne was starting to get tired of people telling her how impressive it was that she had read a paper. That was all she had done, and it seemed like everyone was making a big deal out of it. Professors Babbling and Vector had both congratulated her, but all she had done was remembered some facts about it. Harry, Hermione, and Rose had done the hard work, not her. Even Ron did more than she had; at least he understood the information he supplied. 

“Ms. Granger, Professor Vector has informed me of your incredible aptitude for Arithmancy. I admit, I was a little sceptical of her claims, but after tonight, I no longer doubt her. You were able to calculate the counter-runes to the prison in your head, and you were able to work through Professor Snape’s logic riddle, despite it being a fake. I look forward to seeing your progress next year when you take the actual class. Sixty points.” 

Despite the praise, Hermione felt bad. She wasn’t _that_ clever that she deserved sixty points. Not without Rose’s help, anyway. In fact, not for the first time, she wondered if she was cheating. It _felt_ like she was cheating, using a magical hair clip to make herself smarter, not to mention Rose’s trick with _Serendipity_. But it wasn’t like she was using magic all the time with that second one; that was always functioning. It was a part of her now. Even the hair clip she barely removed, except when washing her hair. Even then, she tried not to keep it off for too long. 

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum, you convinced your housemates to charge into a situation for which you admitted to having little information. You could have potentially killed your friends, not to mention you endangered a powerful artifact. You broke countless rules in the past few hours, not to mention you have been _lying_ not only to myself, but the rest of the staff, and I’m not just talking about your inability to cast magic as the rest of us.” 

This came as a shock to the other four students, as no one had mentioned that Rose couldn’t cast spells like everyone else. Rose wasn’t surprised; Professor Dumbledore was like Uncle Oz, who just _knew_ things. No one knew how, and no one that knew him bothered to ask anymore. They just accepted that he knew things that he really shouldn’t and moved on. 

“However, had you _not_ , Messrs. Potter and Weasley would most certainly have died, not to mention that your four friends stand little chance in a fight against Professor Quirrell. You saved Mr. Weasley from dying in the chess match, and Professor Snape from dying against Professor Quirrell. You cleverly created a distraction to allow Professor Snape to escape, then neutralized Professor Quirrell the second you were able. You showed resourcefulness in having Dripty and Atrien collect the other professors, and most importantly, all five of you came out alive. While I don’t condone your actions, Ms. Peta-Lorrum, you still made the best out of a bad situation. I know you don’t care for house points, but I’m afraid I don’t have anything else to give you. Sixty points.” 

_Oh no_ , Harry thought. _Why am I last?_

“Mr. Potter, you rushed into a dangerous situation without thinking. You forced your friends to go in and retrieve you from an irrational attempt to protect an artifact from an evil professor, despite being aware that it was under the protection of the other professors. Your actions could have easily gotten you and your friends killed. Do you understand?” 

“Yes, Professor,” Harry said, nodding. 

“With that said, if you had remained in Gryffindor Tower tonight, Professor Quirrell might have gotten away with the Philosopher’s Stone. Our attention would not have been drawn to these events, and Voldemort might have even escaped. Even when you knew the situation was dire, you still aided Ms. Peta-Lorrum and Professors McGonagall and Snape in their fight against Voldemort. Sixty points.” 

Albus mentally tallied up the current points scores, including the additional points he had just administered. Gryffindor was still 18 points behind Slytherin, and after what these students had done, they had earned the House Cup, and possibly even medals. Were they still giving out medals for services to the school? He’d have to ask Minerva. As the responsible member of the staff, Minerva kept track of most of the administrative information. 

“I would also like to remind each of you that bravery is not the absence of fear, but the ability to act in spite of fear. I believe that you have all shown this trait tonight. So an additional five points to each of you.” 

Albus addressed Sally-Anne and Hermione. “Ms. Perks, Ms. Granger, I understand that you have had difficulty explaining some of the events of the past year to your parents. If you would like, I would be happy to meet with both of your girls’ parents and explain to them what has happened.” 

“Erm,” Hermione said. “That… that would be great!” 

“If it’s not too much trouble,” Sally-Anne said. 

“Wonderful,” Dumbledore said. “Now, if it’s not a problem, I’d like to talk to Ms. Peta-Lorrum alone. I’ve got a few questions for her.” 

“If it’s alright, I’d rather Hermione stay,” Rose said. “I promised her an explanation.” 

“So long as you girls don’t mind,” the Headmaster replied. 

“Not even gonna ask if she needs sleep?” Rose asked as her other three friends left. 

“We both know she doesn’t,” Albus said, a twinkle in his eye. 

Hermione tried hard not to stare at him in awe as Rose drew her wand. She hadn’t said anything about her ring to anyone except her parents. How did Professor Dumbledore know? 

“ _Doublespeak_ ,” cast Rose. “My name is Rose Peta-Lorrum. I haven’t the faintest idea how old I am. When I was nine, I was accepted into Arcrel Academy of Artificing. My parents, Arthur Lorrum and Lily Peta, stayed in a town nearby called Kor’el. There was a raid in which my parents died. They couldn’t get out because they were too busy giving their lives for the ungrateful Elves. That was at least 10 years ago. I was redirected here when traveling between planes, then a planar barrier was erected around the plane, keeping me here. I can’t go home, and I don’t know why.” 

Hermione took a moment to process the new information. She could accept Rose was from another world; given everything she’d seen Rose do, that wasn’t much of a stretch. It was certainly more believable than Rose being 19. 

“Anything else you’d like to know?” Rose asked. 

“How did you survive the dragon?” Albus asked. 

“There’s a spell in my world called _revivify_ that can restore life to someone who died within the past six seconds. Sk’lar got to me in time and cast it on me. And if it’s all the same to you two, I’d rather not answer any more questions involving the Abomination.” Rose turned to Hermione. “Your turn.” 

“Is your hair _actually_ that color?” Hermione asked. 

“Yup!” Rose exclaimed cheerfully. “Dad’s hair was red, and Mum’s hair was black! I got both!” 

“You said Quirrell tried to use the Cruciatus Curse on you, but it had no effect,” Professor Dumbledore said. “Do you know if you’re immune to the other two Unforgivable Curses?” 

“Not sure what those are,” Rose replied. 

“The Imperius Curse and the Avada Kedavra Curse,” Albus said. “One allows the caster to possess the victim, and the other causes instant death.” 

“I think Quirrell tried to use the imperial curse on me, but _mind blank_ prevents attempts to influence my thoughts. I don’t know for sure, but abracadabra sounds like a death effect, and I’m immune to those, too.” 

“Good to know,” Professor Dumbledore said. “Have you considered where you will stay over the summer?” 

“I assumed I’d stay here.” 

“That’s not a possibility, I’m afraid,” Professor Dumbledore replied. “Students aren’t allowed to stay in the castle, due to the constant fluctuation of the rooms over the summer. The only room in the castle that is guaranteed not to be affected is this one.” 

“Ah,” Rose said. “What about the Forbidden Forest?” 

“You mean the dangerous woodlands that contain potentially lethal creatures?” 

“Yeah, the woods that have walking piles of XP living in them.” 

“I would rather you not,” Professor Dumbledore said. 

Rose sighed. “Alright, _Oz_ , I know you’re trying to subtly hint at what you want me to do, but I’m impatient, so let’s skip to the end, please.” 

An idea occurred to Hermione. Rose had saved her life twice, and even though she was a little odd, she was never too much to handle. 

“I guess…” Hermione began. “I can ask my parents if you can stay with us. I mean, there’s only a few weeks until summer, but I’m sure they won’t mind, considering that you saved my life and all. Twice now.” 

“Hermione, I only saved you from the troll,” Rose said. “Tonight was all you. You got us out of that prison, not me.” 

“Without you, Harry wouldn’t have remembered the runes, and we all might have passed out by the time I worked out the equations for the runes if he did remember. _And_ you saved Ron in the chess match, and–” 

“I didn’t just save your life, Hermione,” Rose said. “We saved each other’s.” 

“I’m glad that’s settled,” Professor Dumbledore said cheerfully. “One more thing, and then you girls may go to bed.” 

“What is it?” asked the crimson-haired girl. 

Professor Dumbledore held out his hand. “The Philosopher’s Stone?” 

“Right!” Rose said, reaching into her picnic basket. “In the future, if you’re ever asked to keep something safe, nothing gets inside the _Bountiful Basket_.” 

“I will keep that in mind,” Professor Dumbledore said, taking the Stone from her. 

“Is that what it’s called?” Hermione asked, noting that every piece of equipment Rose owned was given a name. 

“Dunno, I just made it up,” Rose replied. 

Both girls got out of their chairs. 

“Professor?” 

“Yes, Ms. Peta-Lorrum?” 

“Make sure that Dripty gets rewarded. He was phenomenal tonight.” 

“I will,” Professor Dumbledore replied. “Have a good night, ladies.” 

“Good night, Professor Dumbledore!” exclaimed Rose. 

“Good night,” said Hermione. 

* * *

“I can’t wait to get to bed,” Ron said as the other three members of their group returned to Gryffindor Tower. “I’m exhausted.” 

“I think I’m gonna sleep for a week after this,” Harry said. “I’m sorry for dragging you both into this.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Sally-Anne said. “It all turned out alright in the end. Just look at the bright side.” 

“Bright side?” Ron asked. 

“Compared to this, exams should be easy.” 

“Yeah,” said Ron, laughing, “and then we can all look forward to a nice, relaxing summer.” 

“Yeah,” Harry said quietly, looking down. 

“Harry?” Sally-Anne asked. “You okay?” 

“Yeah, it’s just… summer isn’t really relaxing for me.” 

“You’ve mentioned your aunt and uncle aren’t nice,” Sally-Anne said. “Are you going to be okay for the summer?” 

“I’ll be fine,” Harry said. “I’ll just keep my head down like always, and it won’t be so bad. They’ve been feeding me enough.” 

“Was there a time when they didn’t?” 

“Yeah,” Harry said. “I don’t really want to talk about it now, though.” 

Harry wasn’t half as worried as he was letting on, but it was nice to be reminded that people cared about him. If things got bad over the summer, he could just threaten to use magic on his family. He wasn’t allowed to, but they didn’t know that. 

“If it gets bad, mate, just let me know,” Ron said. “Mum already made you a jumper, so you’re part of the family to her. She won’t mind if you stay with me, and she’ll make sure there’s plenty of food the second she sees how thin you are.” 

“Thanks.” 

“Harry’s not _that_ thin,” Sally-Anne said. 

“ _Everyone’s_ too thin for Mum,” Ron said. “ _I_ want to see what she does when she sees Rose.” 

They climbed through the portrait and were immediately met with a pair of prefects. 

“Where have you three been?” asked Alex. 

“It’s well past curfew, and you–” Percy began. 

“We’ve already talked with Professor McGonagall, and she already took points,” said Sally-Anne. “Gryffindor’s lost 275 house points.” 

“What?” asked Alex. “That’s a little drastic.” 

“It’s a long story.” 

“Where are Rose and Hermione?” asked Alex. 

“Still talking with Professor Dumbledore,” Harry said. 

“Why 275?” asked Percy. 

“Fifty from each of us five, then Rose lost another 25 for disobeying McGonagall again,” Ron said, staring longingly at the stairs that led up to his room. 

“Just for breaking curfew?” Alex asked. 

“For being in the forbidden corridor after curfew.” 

“You were in the _forbidden corridor_?!” exclaimed Alex and Percy. 

“Like I said, it’s a long story, and we’re all exhausted,” Sally-Anne said. 

“From saving the world,” muttered Ron. 

Sally-Anne elbowed him in the side. 

“I’m disappointed in you, Ronald,” Percy said. “You’ve been doing so well in your classes this term, why act up now?” 

“Percy, I’m tired, so can you stop pretending to be perfect until I go to bed?” Ron groaned. 

“Care to repeat that?” 

“Percy, would you please see that Ron and Harry make it to bed?” Alex asked. “They both look beat, and I think they could use the rest.” 

Percy and Ron glared at one another for another second, then the three boys began the long trip up to the top floor. 

Alex turned to Sally-Anne. “I can see Rose pulling something like this, so I’m assuming the whole thing was her idea.” 

“Like I said, it’s–” 

“A long story, I know,” Alex said, smiling. “Don’t worry, I’ll talk with Professor McGonagall in the morning.” 

Sally-Anne smiled back at the prefect. “Thanks, Alex.” 

“Don’t mention it,” the curly haired girl replied. “I can handle one odd child. I’ve got three little cousins that are _all_ troublemakers. Rose being a little odd from time to time is _nothing_.” 

“How old are they?” asked Sally-Anne as she began to walk towards the stairs. 

“The oldest one will be starting school next year. I keep warning him that he won’t be able to get away with anything with Professor McGonagall in charge, but he doesn’t believe me.” 

“Yeah, she’s pretty tough,” Sally-Anne said, smiling. “Good night, Alex.” 

“Good night, Sally-Anne,” Alex said, settling into the couch. 

Alex thought back to a few hours ago when she had returned to the common room. When she finished her rounds, she normally found Rose draped over the side of the couch reading a book, or playing with that puzzle box of hers, or drawing. Not seeing the girl that night had thrown up a red flag. She knew Rose was sneaking out every so often, but she always came back and managed not to get caught. Considering the girl didn’t seem to sleep, which Alex suspected was a side effect of that spell she used to make herself pale (since she recalled Rose saying exactly that), the prefect wasn’t _terribly_ concerned. 

That night, Alex had returned to find an empty common room. Rose did sometimes spend time in her bed, usually staring at the ceiling, or doing work with Hermione, who was either sleeping earlier or less. Alex had checked the girls’ room, but not only did she find no Rose in it, Hermione and Sally-Anne were missing, too. Fearing the worst, Alex had run up to check on Harry and Ron, since she knew the girls to be friends with them, and sure enough, they were gone too. 

Alex had awoken Percy, hoping he knew something, but the boy was as lost as she was. They went to find Professor McGonagall, but _she_ wasn’t in her flat either. Not sure what else to do, the two prefects had returned to the common room, and waited for nearly an hour before the boys and Sally-Anne had returned. 

By the time Hermione and Rose returned, Alex was asleep on the couch. 

“We’re back,” whispered Rose. 

“Good,” Alex said groggily. “I already talked with the other three, and we’re all going to meet with Professor McGonagall in the morning.” 

“Sounds like a plan,” Rose said. “I think she’s starting to like me!” 

Hermione decided that that might be one of the maddest things she had heard her pale friend say, but really wanted to collapse in her bed. She didn’t _need_ anymore sleep that night, but she _really_ wanted to collapse into her nice, soft, warm, danger-free bed. 

As Rose watched the other two girls ascend the stairs, she pulled out her book and curled up on the couch to read, which is what she wanted to do in the first place. 

* * *

<So not only was Quirrell evil,> pathed Alice, <but he managed to get around all but one of the obstacles to the Philosopher’s Stone.>

Having finished her book (again), Rose decided to let her family know what had happened that night. She had crept silently up the stairs and into her bed, and began a telepathic conversation with them. Considering Carolina and Bowie were sleeping like normal people, she only got her siblings and Shadow, but Uncle Oz joined them soon after that. 

<Pretty much,> Rose replied. 

<I’m a little impressed with the general difficulty of the challenges,> Sk’lar pathed. 

<Why didn’t they hide the door to Fluffy’s room?> asked Shadow. 

<I dunno,> Rose replied. 

<Or better yet, if hiding it was the intention, why not just place the Stone in an indestructible box at the bottom of the ocean?>

Rose began to laugh over the telepathic network. 

<What?> asked Shadow. 

<That’s _exactly_ what I said you’d say. Unfortunately, I haven’t actually got an answer for you. >

<That does make sense, Shadow,> Oz pathed. <Professor Dumbledore seems like he’s smarter than that. The Stone was obviously hidden behind the dog, and many students could’ve been placed in danger.>

<What if the intention wasn’t to hide it?> asked Shadow. <What if Dumbledore was using it as bait?>

<Interesting idea, Shadow,> Oz pathed. 

<Since Professor Dumbledore didn’t know where Voldemort was, the Philosopher’s Stone would’ve been the perfect way to draw him into the open,> Sk’lar added. 

<But he still got away, right?> asked Alice. <Doesn’t that defeat the purpose?>

<No, because Dumbledore needed to know that Voldemort was still _alive_ ,> Shadow replied. <Voldemort no longer has the element of surprise. The purpose wasn’t necessarily to capture him, it was to gain information.>

Rose beamed. She was proud of her not-girlfriend. 

<You’re making that face, aren’t you, Rose?> Alice asked. 

<What face?>

<Your ‘Shadow’s hot when she’s smart’ face.>

Rose’s face turned slightly red, an impressive feat considering that blood didn’t flow through her veins. <I don’t have a face like that!>

<Alice, you know it makes them uncomfortable when you do that,> Oz pathed. <She’s just proud of her friend.>

<Alice, be careful,> Sk’lar pathed. <When Bowie does that, he gets stabbed by Shadow.>

A few seconds passed, with no response from Alice. 

<Alice, are you dead?> Rose asked. <Shadow, did you stab my sister?>

<You can’t prove anything,> came the response. 

<Yup, she stabbed me,> Alice pathed weakly. <I’m dying.>

<Oh well,> Rose pathed. <We can live without our Abjurant Champion, right?>

<Oh, _thanks_ , Sis,> Alice pathed. 

<Changing the subject,> Sk’lar pathed. <Rose, do you have any idea when you can come home?>

<No,> Rose replied. <No sign from EL, and the planar barrier is still intact.>

<Voldemort is still out there,> pathed Ozerl. <If her purpose is to help stop him, then she may not be able to return until that happens.>

<I could literally do that right now,> Rose replied, getting off bed. <I can use _discern location_ to find him, and– >

<There are still a lot of unanswered questions, Rose. Before you go running off, you may want to consider the possibility that Voldemort may be a difficult challenge.>

<But I wanna go home,> Rose replied. <I miss everyone.>

<We miss you too, Rosie,> Alice pathed. 

<I’ll keep looking into the planar barrier,> Sk’lar pathed. <There must be something we can do.>

<Do you know where you’re staying over the summer?> asked Oz, <or are you going to continue your tradition of more school work instead of relaxing?>

Rose had almost forgotten that she used to hide behind schoolwork to avoid other students. 

<They don’t do summer classes here,> Rose replied. <In fact, they don’t allow students to stay over at all. Hermione’s going to ask her parents if it’s okay with them if I stay there.>

<Try to relax and make the most of it,> Oz pathed. <There’s no sense in getting worked up over this.>

<Alright,> Rose replied. <I’ll let you all go. Good night, everyone.>

<Good night, Rose. Alice out.>

<Enjoy the night. Oz out.>

<Take care of yourself. Sk’lar out.>

<Your workshop’s quiet without you.>

<I miss you, too, Shadow.>

* * *

Hermione had a similar idea to Rose, and began to write a letter to her own parents. 

_Dear Mum and Dad_ , 

_A lot has happened tonight. There’s a lot to explain, but I’d rather wait until I see you in a few weeks. Just know that I’m alright, but I’ve got a question for you._

_Professor Dumbledore said that students aren’t allowed to stay in the castle, so Rose doesn’t have anywhere to stay over the summer. I was wondering if it would be alright if she stays with us. She doesn’t eat much, and I don’t think she actually sleeps, but she still needs somewhere to stay._

_Lots of Love_ , 

_Hermione_

After trying for several minutes, it was all Hermione could think to tell them. Hermione wanted to deliver it as soon as possible, before she thought of something else, but realized that the Owlery would be closed, not to mention curfew was still in effect. Maybe Rose could deliver it. 

“Rose, would you please do me a favor?” 

“Sure!” 

“Can you get this letter delivered for me?” 

“Can do!” 

Rose took the letter, and skipped out of their room. Hermione was a little worried about it, but that quickly vanished as she fell asleep. 

That morning, they met with Professor McGonagall, who explained to Percy and Alex that the situation had already been handled. 

Word spread that a group of Gryffindors had done something miraculous, although no one had the entire story correct. This was partially due to the Twins embellishing the story every time they told it, although Hermione and Sally-Anne couldn’t figure out who had told _them_. At first, they assumed it was Rose, but they slowly began to turn their suspicions towards Ron, who never denied saying anything. 

At dinner that evening, Hermione received a letter from home. 

_That was quick_ , she thought as she opened the letter. She didn’t think that owls delivered letters at night, but as she watched the “owl” fly away, she realized that it was blue, and turned to glare at Rose. 

“Rose, when I asked you to deliver a letter to Mum and Dad, _how_ did you deliver it?” Hermione asked. 

“Intelligencer, of course!” replied Rose as her pet circled down to her. “How else would I have?” 

“I was thinking the Owlery.” 

“What’s an ‘Owlery’?” 

Hermione paused, muttered “don’t know what I was expecting,” then turned her attention to the letter. 

_Dear Hermione_ , 

_We would be happy to let Rose stay with us for the summer. We’ll make sure the guest bedroom is made up for her so she has a room to herself, in case she decides to start sleeping again._

_We are a little concerned that you need to tell us that you’re alright, but we’re trying to withhold judgement until we hear from you. We hope you are well, and good luck on your exams. Of course, you don’t need it, Sweetheart._

_Love_ , 

_Mum and Dad_

“Rose, Mum and Dad say it’s alright if you stay with us.” 

Rose beamed. “We’re gonna have fun!” 

In spite of everything she knew about her friend, Hermione laughed. “I’m sure we will.” 

* * *

“Salutations, Professor McGonagall!” 

Minerva looked up to see that Rose Peta-Lorrum had appeared in her office. According to Albus, she had a habit of doing that, rather than using a door. 

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum, I know your patience and attention span are limited, so I’ll be brief,” Minerva said. “In the Philosopher’s Stone chambers you were quick to think and act, and your method of subduing Quirrell was clever, to say the least.” 

“It’s just _flesh to stone_ ,” Peta-Lorrum replied. “I get it as part of _undermaster_!” 

Minerva nodded, although she didn’t entirely understand. 

“I will not condone your general attitude of ‘act first, think if you feel like it’, but I will say this: I have never seen a first-year more calm in the face of danger. If your ability to think on your feet is as good as I believe it to be, then I will allow you to handle situations yourself, but _only_ if there is no time to retrieve a teacher.” 

Peta-Lorrum nodded quickly, her hair shaking slightly as she did. 

“Thank you, Professor,” the girl replied. “I promise I won’t lethally injure any of the students.” 

“Ms. Peta-Lorrum, we are not on your terms,” Minerva reminded her. “Therefore, you will not harm the students _at all_.” 

“Self-defence only,” the girl negotiated. “Non-lethal, and self-defence only.” 

“And anything you do must be able to be undone by the staff,” Minerva replied, remembering the statue that was once her co-worker. 

“Done,” Rose said. 

Minerva never thought she’d be making a deal with one of her students, but there she was, shaking the hand of a first-year after making a deal allowing her to take matters into her own hands. 

Minerva hated admitting it, but despite her best efforts, the school was horribly lacking in supervision. She knew that there were bullies, each of which was fueled by magic that the staff themselves were teaching them. Minerva knew all too well that teenagers were more than likely to assume they knew better, if they thought at all, and before they knew it, someone had lost an arm. Fortunately, Poppy was adept at reattaching arms. 

With luck, Peta-Lorrum would help keep her friends safe, and that was a few less students about which Minerva herself had to worry. 

* * *

A few days before they were to return home, Professor Vector asked to meet with Hermione one last time that term. 

“Hermione, please have a seat,” Professor Vector greeted her. “How are you?” 

“I’m alright,” Hermione replied. “Still a little exhausted from fielding questions from what feels like half the school.” 

“I can imagine,” Professor Vector replied. “I don’t think I’ve heard the same story twice about you five.” 

“Yeah, everyone keeps asking us if we really defeated Voldemort–” 

Professor Vector scowled at the name. 

“Sorry, Ma’am,” Hermione said. “I keep forgetting that most people don’t like that name.” 

“I understand, Hermione,” Professor Vector replied. “It doesn’t mean the same thing to Muggle-born students as it does to those who were alive during the war. Anyway, I wanted to discuss a few last details with you, but first I’d like to see how well you do with this.” She handed the first-year a few pieces of parchment. “Don’t worry about doing well on it; it’s purpose is to evaluate your current progress.” 

Hermione looked over the parchment she had been handed and realized that it was a test. In fact, it looked like a final exam. 

As Hermione progressed through it, she became more and more certain that this wasn’t just a final exam, this was this year’s Arithmancy final exam for the third-year class. When she finished, she handed the parchment back to Professor Vector, who added it to the top of her stack of what Hermione could only guess were the other exams. 

Hermione sat patiently while Professor Vector looked it over. She made a single correction to it before looking up. 

“As I’m sure you’ve worked out by now, that was the final exam for my third-year Arithmancy students. You just scored higher on it than over half of the class. Do you understand exactly what that means?” 

Hermione frowned and looked at Professor Vector. It couldn’t be. She already knew that she was going to be taking Arithmancy next term, but up until that moment, she had been assuming that she would be joining the third-year class. 

“Hermione, you just tested into Arithmancy two years early,” Professor Vector informed the young Gryffindor. “You will be joining the fourth-year class at the start of next term.” 

“What?” gasped Hermione “Two ye– _What?!_ ” 

She couldn’t believe it. That had to be the best news she had heard since she was told that she could go back to bed after the ordeal with the Philosopher’s Stone. 

“I trust this won’t be a problem?” 

“I just…” Hermione tried to gather her thoughts, but her mind was going too fast. “I need to make sure that my classes–” 

“Already taken care of,” Professor Vector replied. “I saw to it myself that your other classes wouldn’t conflict with Arithmancy. I trust Ms. Peta-Lorrum will be able to escort you?” 

“Probably,” Hermione said. “And if not, I could always ask the other students.” 

“I’m sure Mr. Diggory or Ms. Spinnet wouldn’t mind walking with you.” Septima smiled at the girl. “I look forward to seeing you next year, Hermione. Have a good summer.” 

“Thank you, Ma’am,” Hermione replied, still trying to process the fact that she’d be taking Arithmancy as a fourth-year. “You too!” 

Septima watched the girl leave, then looked down at Hermione’s paper. What Septima _hadn’t_ told her was that she didn’t just score higher than half the class, but nearly _all_ of the class. She had received the same score as Rebecca Gamp, which was the only reason that Hermione hadn’t outdone everyone. 

While Septima didn’t know the girl as well as she’d like, she didn’t want to take the chance that Hermione got too full of herself. Merlin forbid she became as arrogant as her friend Rose. 

The crimson-haired girl was a bad influence on Hermione, but Hermione spoke well of the girl, so Septima didn’t dare say anything bad about her. Nevertheless, it seemed that the only good that had come of the strange girl was giving Hermione a magic bracelet, and Harry Potter magic glasses. True, Peta-Lorrum had saved Hermione’s life in the Philosopher’s Stone chambers, and against that troll Quirrell had let in on Hallowe’en, but both of those situations would’ve been avoided if not for Peta-Lorrum. 

It worried Septima that that everything bad that happened to Hermione could be traced back to Rose Peta-Lorrum. 

* * *

Hermione got off the Hogwarts Express and left the platform, Rose following behind her, and Sally-Anne not too far from them. 

When Hermione saw her parents, she broke into a sprint, throwing herself at them. It had felt like forever since she had seen them last. 

“But you saw them eight chapters ago,” Rose had said on the train. 

“Rose, stuff like that is why no one takes you seriously,” Hermione had told her. 

“That’s sort of the point,” Rose had replied, grinning. 

Hermione didn’t care that it had only been a few months since she had seen them; she held her parents tightly, glad to be returning to the safety of her home. 

“Salutations, Mr. and Mrs. Hermione’s Mum and Dad!” exclaimed Rose, curtsying. “It’s nice to meet you!” 

“Mr. and Mrs. Granger,” Professor Dumbledore said, coming up behind the students. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.” He turned to Sally-Anne’s parents, who weren’t too far. “And Mr. and Mrs. Perks, quite a pleasure. If you all wouldn’t mind, I would like to treat you all to a pint at the Leaky Cauldron. We’ve got a lot to discuss.” 

Dan and Emma exchanged looks. Not only was Hermione not telling them what had happened, but they were being invited to a meeting with the Headmaster himself. 

They looked from their daughter, to Professor Dumbledore, to Rose. 

It was going to be an interesting summer. 

* * *

Over the past few weeks, deep within the walls of Hogwarts, the Consciousness looked upon the events that unfolded, and began to formulate its own plan. 

_I think it’s about time that Rose Peta-Lorrum and I met._

* * *

**Note:** That wraps up Book One. The intention is to write all seven books, although we’ll see if that actually pans out. Ideally, it will, but real life has a tendency to get in the way of things. 

I’m taking a break for a week. Stay tuned for the next book in the _Girl in Red_ series: _Sally-Anne Perks and The Scarlet Sociopath_. 


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